Our Rights
by Hetaliadict
Summary: Some countries just don't support homosexuality. Like America. So when he becomes very cruel towards homosexuals, some of the countries leave and announce unexpected things, along with some countries no one saw coming.
1. Meeting

"Stupid fags." That was what Italy heard. That was what had actually woke him up and pay attention for once in the world meeting. He looked up and tried to find the person who said that, and it wasn't too hard; several countries were giving him the death glare.

"S'cuze me?" muttered Sweeden, an angry face forming to cover up his usual scary one. America looked back up.

"I said 'stupid fags'. I don't think we should legalize anything for them, it's unnatural, it's against God's word, and it's just wrong. I'm tired of _them_ always going on for Gay Rights, it's annoying, just like them, and it pisses the hell outta' me." Scoffed America back. Russia nodded his head in agreement.

"Now this is something I can agree with America on, Da?" Russia said, cheerfully. "We allow it to be legal for them to even _exist_ and yet they beg for more rights? It's just sic," but Russia was cut off from the sound of a scooting chair. Sweeden had stood up and left the table, walking away.

"What's up with him, aru?" Mumbled China.

"Oi, Sweeden, come back here! Where are you going?" shouted England, irritated.

" 'm leavn'." He said quietly. Everyone looked at him schocked. No one _ever_ left a world meeting, except for something major….like the end of the world, or leaving his scones in the oven (the later could be considered the first).

"You can't just leave, dude! What? Do you defend those stupid homo's and queers?" Sweeden said nothing. He just stood there. "That's what I thought, now sit down." He ordered.

"Sn'ce 2009…" Sweeden muttered. Everyone looked at him, confused at what he said.

"What dude? Speak louder."

"My cn'try has had leg'lized gay m'rage since 2009. N' I myself has s'ported it my whole life." He said, loudly for everyone to hear, and gave America the death glare. USA was shocked, paralyzed. He never expected this, this outbreak. Sweeden gave one more look at the people at the meeting, and then left the room. The meeting remained silent for a while, until another chair could be heard scooting out. This time it was Finland.

"And where do you think you're going, Finny?" Asked Russia, with a cheerful, childlike smile plastered on his face.

"I'm following my _husband._" He growled, tears gleaming in his eyes slightly. With that, Finland had left the room too. This had caused a sort of 'rebellion' for the rest of the group. The Netherlands was the first to stand up.

"Netherlands….2001." he said, quietly, breathing in his pipe deeply. Other's followed his example.

"Spain! 2005!" He shouted happily, and then death glared America, as most people had started doing.

"France. To be legal in 2013!" he blew a kiss to America and left the room.

"Norway. 2009." He said quietly, leaving the room.

"C..Canada….2005." he mumbled, not that anyone would hear him. This was the first time people had seen him, they looked at him in shock, his brother America just glared him down.

"Belgium. 2003." She stuck out her tongue and left the room.

There was another moment of dead silence, lasting for what seemed hours. Finally, America piped up.

"Is there anyone else who wants to leave, do so now." He said, slowly and under his breath, but loud enough for the remaining people to hear him. For a moment no one budged, then the most unexpected person got up.

"Dude! Romano! Where are you going!" everyone looked at him in shock, especially Italy.

"I'm leaving with Spain." He said quietly.

"Dude, you're Catholic! I doubt you're a homo…"but America was cut off again.

"Romano…no...Lovino fucking Vargas. Since the 16th century, god dammnit!" He left the room. Just like that. "Wait up you tomato bastard!" shouted Romano to Spain. They could be heard in the distance, Spain shouting something happily in Spanish, and Romano angrily shouting back in Italian.

Again with the dead silence. Then China began speaking.

"Aiyah! Now that their gone, lets start the meeting again, America," suggested China. America nodded in agreement and began speaking.

"Alright, dudes. Now we can actually get down to business. We need to find a way to keep our countries safe from the gay-ness of these gays. The more rights we give them, the more they'll ask for, like that book about giving a mouse a cookie…what's it called…?"

"When you give a mouse a cookie?" sighed England.

"Yeah! That one..So now that all the freaks are gone, lets find out how to stop them, and maybe even (if we're lucky) find a way to make them sane again." People agreed with him all around the table, Russia making himself the most obvious, shouting his famous "da!" in agreement.

The only thing that stopped the cheering was a loud snap sound. Everyone looked again, to where the noise came from. A chair was now broken. Someone had just broken off their arm rest.

"Vee…" sighed Italy quietly.

"Italien…are you okay?" asked Germany quietly to his friend sitting next to him. Italy turned to him, tears in his eyes. But this wasn't the usual sobbing his friend did, this was worse. This actually felt emotional, and sad, opposed to his usual crying from fear. Still sitting, the northern half of Italy began speaking.

"Hey America?" he said.

"Yeah?"

"You say 'unnatural.' But did you know that there are over 1,000 animals that show homosexual or bisexual behaviors? You say wrong, but did you know that being gay or bi or lesbian is something that happens before you're even born? It's not a choice." He began making chocking noises on his sobs.

"Italien, sit down!" Germany said harshly, tugging at Italy's sleeve to pull him back into the broken seat. Italy just ignored him, which surprised everyone.

"And I love Jesus as much as the next Catholic, but that doesn't mean anything about my view on homosexuality. God loves everyone, and that includes gay people, any good Christian knows that America." Everyone looked at Italy in disbelief.

"Italien…don't do it." Italy looked over at his German friend, still sitting in his chair, and giving Italy an expression never seen on Germany before. Sad, confused, hurt. Germany looked close to tears himself.

"Don't say it…please." He whispered, his eyes glued to his friend's. Italy stood up.

"My name is Feliciano Vargas, and I've been gay since the 900's." Italy picked up his brief case which held all his files and information for the meetings, and left the room.

"But…he's always hitting on girls though, hasn't he?" asked Japan, very confused.

"Yeah…but he always has been kinda…off. I guess we should have seen that coming. And France was an obvious one there…I guess you could say the same about Spain too…" said America. "And Canada, I guess I should have seen that one coming too…that pansy…" he said disgustedly.

Germany looked at America with burning anger.

"America! That is your own brother you're talking about! You can't just say that!" Germany thought of his own brother. Even if Prussia became a murderer, rapist, and most horrible person in the world, he still wouldn't be able to say such bad things about him. He is his brother! And America and Canada were brothers, were they not?

"I am not related to any fags, got it Germany?" spat America, pointing his index finger right at Germany.

"You do know that it isn't a choice America? That it's because of genes, hormones and birth order that people are gay?" America laughed. "And that studies show that boys with older brothers tend to be gay?"

"What studies, dude? Probably from some crack homo's making shit up. As usual." Said America, chuckling slightly at the absurdness of what Germany was suggesting.

"Okay how about: the American Medical Association, the American Psychiatric Association, the American Physiological Association, the American Psychoanalytic Association, the American Academy of Pediatrics, and the National Association of Social Workers. _All _of which are _American _organizations." At this, America said nothing. Until he came up with a 'good' come back.

"Well I'm the older brother…but you're the younger brother of Prussia, so does that make _you _gay?" taunted America at Germany. Prussia stood up fast, knocking his chair over in the process.

"Hey! Knock it off, man! My awesome little brother isn't gay! If he was I would know about it, because he tells the awesome me _everything!_ So back off you homophobe!" America was again speechless. The only noise in the room was the sound of Germany laughing.

"Haha! Ah…Ich liebe dich bruder…aber ich muss etwas tun. ( I love you brother, but there is something I must do.) Prussia stared at his younger brother in disbelief.

"Nein! West! Du willst mich doch veraschen! (you've got to be fucking kidding me!) Germany shook his head at Prussia.

"Sorry, bruder." Germany grabbed Prussia's shoulder and squeezed it. It was the closest thing to a hug Germany could manage. Germany grabbed his brief case and left the room.

"GERMANY!" shouted America at the top of his lungs, in his most authoritative voice he could manage. Germany stopped and looked back into the room.

"Ja? Oh yea, I forgot." Began Germany with a chuckle. Becoming serious again, Germany gave a salute, "My name is Ludwig Beilshmidt. And I guess somewhere in the 1940's I realized I was gay." He lowered his hand back to his side. "Have a nice day." He left the room and this time, didn't come back when America called for him. For the fourth time that day, there was dead silence.

"Meeting over." America said between his teeth. He grabbed his papers, packed it up and left, along with everyone else.


	2. realization

Germany was practically running out of the building to catch up to and the rest. They hadn't gotten far, they were all grouped together in a little circle talking to each other, in the middle of the little garden area out front of the building where the meeting was held. Germany began to walk over to them, his footsteps clacking on the cobblestones. Heads turned in his direction; once they saw him they became very confused.

"Is the meeting already over Germany?" asked Spain. Germany shook his head.

"Nein…"

"Then why are you here, amigo?" Germany was blushing and wouldn't make eye contact. With his expression it wouldn't take long until they all realized why he was there.

"hahah! And we thought it was unlikely when Romano joined us!" laughed Belgium. "Umm…Ja. Sure. Where's Italien?" asked Germany, beginning to blush even more. But his question was answered by depressed looking faces. Romano looked up at Germany and pointed to where his brother was. In the corner of the garden area, Italy was kneeling. Germany walked over and rested a hand on his friends shoulder.

"Vee!" Italy turned around and faced Germany. In his hands was a rosary. _Italy was praying._ Thought Germany. From what he knew of Italian, Italy was begging for forgiveness for something…Germany could guess what.

"Vee….Germany, why are you here? Is the meeting over already? I thought you hated me now? Please don't hate me! I know that you probably don't like me anymore because Germany is against gay marriage and stuff and but I still at least want to be friends because I like Germany very much and…." Italy kept rambling and was cut off by the group standing near by.

"Italy, the meeting isn't over." Said France soothingly.

"Si, Germany's here because he wants to be." Assured Spain. Italy stood up and looked at Germany curiously.

"So…does that mean you don't hate me?" he asked, suspiciously to Germany.

"Ja! I've never hated you! Okay, maybe I've become extremely annoyed with you a lot of the time, but I've never hated you!" explained Germany. His whole face was now totally red. Italy beamed a huge smile and flung himself onto the German who stood in front of him. Germany awkwardly patted his friends back.

"But Germany…you do realize that since you left the meeting that they're all going to think your gay too, right?" said Italy, worrying for his friend's safety. Romano face palmed and walked over to his brother. He grabbed Veneziano by the arm, pulled him away from Germany and whispered something in his younger brother's ear. Italy turned around to face Germany and smiled even wider than before.

"YOU'RE GAY!" shouted Italy happily and confused.

"Since when? For who? Is he cute? Does he like pasta? Can I meet him? We could all hang out together!" Now it was everyone's turn to face palm.

"Umm…Italien…Ja. I am. Since…I guess the 40's…ja, I think he is, and ja, he does…." Said Germany sheepishly, answering some of Italy's questions.

"Vee! He sounds awesome!"

"I only just told you three things!"

"So he isn't awesome?" said Italy sadly.

"No…he is…but.." stuttered Germany.

"Why are we talking about this anyways!" Germany huffed, you could practically feel the head radiating from his face from his embarrassment.

"Aww, but we want to hear more Allemagne." Whined France, who was pouting. Turned out, everyone was listening in on their conversation.

"Why are you all so interested in my personal life all of a sudden!" asked Germany, quite shocked with how popular he was at the moment.

"Because it just shocked us that you're gay too! I mean, you're Germany! All militaristic and killing homosexuals during WW2!" explained France, like it wasn't a big deal, but it infuriated Germany.

"Watch it, Frog." He scolded, burring holes into Frances eyes with his own sky blue ones. "Calm down, calm down. It's all right." Cooed Belgium, patting France's head soothingly. France calmed down automatically.

"Now, Germany. We would like to know what happened in the meeting…I can't imagine it went very well…" she said. Germany agreed.

"No…It didn't. America threw a fit, I explained what his _American_ research facility's have come up with, he accused me of being gay, and I didn't deny it." It took Germany a little over a second to realize what he had just done. For the first time in his whole life had had accepted who he was, and came out in front of all of his colleagues. _In front of my colleagues…._ Apparently Germany's face was extremely readable, because everyone guessed what he was thinking, and Spain was thick enough to say it out loud.

"Wait…did you just come out?" By now, Germany's face was so red and hot that he thought he might faint…no pass out. Fainting made him sound like even more of a 'sissy' than people have already begun to think he was.

"Vee! Germany? Me too! Yay! See, we're the same!" Said Italy, still hugging his friend.

"I guess you did just kinda' announce it to everyone didn't you?" asked Germany.

"yeah…that was really hard. But I'm glad I did it, aren't you? I got really sad because you told me to not say it…but I did anyways, I'm sorry I disobeyed your order Germany. It's just…"

"It's alright Italien…I don't hate you, and I'm sorry for asking you not to do it…It's just….It would mean I would have to finally admit it to myself as well…and I've been hiding it my whole life it seems…even though I didn't know until recently…well recently in our time…but…I'm sorry Italy."

"Ve, Germany, don't be sorry, there is nothing to forgive you for. You didn't do anything." Italy began to tear up again, "And I'm sure that the guy you like feels the same. The only thing your guilty of is being yourself, and that isn't a crime, it's something we all love you for, and that I adore you for, alright? So ti prego, non piangere. (please don't cry.)" Germany had buried his face into the Italian's chest and cried. Germany looked up and Italy wiped his tears away.

"That is so beautiful!" cried France dramatically. He flung himself onto Italy and Germany, causing everyone to join in on a group hug.

"Dog pile!" shouted Spain. Everyone except Romano jumped on top of Germany and Italy, and in that moment, Germany wasn't sad. He didn't care that he had just done the riskiest things ever, he didn't care that he'd been lying to himself and his friends, because they all accepted him, he had grown closer to them all somehow. But happiness can only last so long.

"See! All they do is fuck each other!" shouted a familiar voice.

"Once they see another queer they can't keep their hands off of them!" America had become even ruder it seemed. He and the rest of the remaining people were walking out of the building together.

"America give it up! You're just being cruel now!" scolded England.

"Shut up, Brittan. If you defend them, then you're as bad as them."

"I'm just saying you're being overly mean. It's unnecessary. You've already made your opinion clear, so just shut the hell up and move on."

"Fine, whatever. I knew you would side with them. You're probably a fag like they are too." America stomped off ahead of everybody, not turning around and going straight to his car. England turned and faced the dog pile.

"I'm sorry for America. I should have defended you all." Apologized England.

"Aww, England. It's alright! We understand." Said Finland, who was sitting on top of Sweden.

"No..it's wrong. I might not be an avid supporter, but I don't think what America is doing is right. I should have done something!" England looked down at his feet and then back at the group.

"Shut the fuck up you scone bastard. If you want to do something thing then buy some fucking duct tape to close your brother's mouth of something!" shouted Romano, who was leaning up against the pile.

"What Romano is trying to say," said a voice from under the pile, "is that, you could just try to keep America from saying such nasty hurtful things." Spain's head popped out from the middle of the pile.

"Right…well I'll try. I've got to get going. Have a nice day everyone." England gave an awkward wave goodbye, and headed toward his car and left. Everyone in the pile stood up and straightened themselves up.

"So, anyone else here think that Germany should tell more about his love?" said Belgium, breaking the silence. She was met by everyone agreeing and Italy clinging tighter to Germany.

"Fine! I don't get why your all so interested in me all of a sudden though!"

"Well we already know about everyone else! Sweden is married to Fin. Spain is with Romano. France loves everyone. Brother doesn't love anyone…yet. Same with me. Canada loves Cuba. Norway loves Denmark. And Italy…well we had our theories…but now that he's out completely we can get a real answer! But Germany first! You're more interesting! No offence Italy."

"Ve..none taken."

"So Germany, care to tell us?" asked Canada. With a deep sigh and a roll of the eyes, Germany agreed.

"Fine, but not here, I'm hungry and don't want to stand any more." Said Germany gruffly.

"Alright then, lets go get some waffles!" said Belgium.

"No! Pancakes!" argued Canada.

"No, lets get churros!" said Spain.

"PAASSTAA!" said the Italy brothers.

"I mean, pasta sounds good you bastards." Mumbled Romano. Everyone laughed and headed away towards a local Italian restaurant.


	3. Chatting

"Hello! I'm Madeline, and I'll be your waitress today. Can I start you off with any drinks?" asked Madeline the waitress.

"Si! Tomato juice!" said spain.

"I'll have what that bastards having damnit!" the waitress cringed at Romano's cursing.

"I'll have a hot chocolate please!" chimed Belgium, smiling at the waitress.

"Beer, please." Said Germany quietly.

"Vee…I'll have a pinto grigio, per favore."

Sweden and Finland were confused from the drink options, not being familiar with Italian beverages or American ones. So Finland randomly chose one that was familiar.

"Umm…Fanta?" asked Finland, really hoping it was a good choice.

" 'll h've wat 'es av'n. (I'll have what he's having.)" said Sweden, referring to the Fanta his wife had just ordered. Everyone continued giving their orders, then began their little meaning.

"So…Where should we start?" asked Canada quietly. Everyone looked at Germany, really anticipating hearing his story (though Germany still didn't understand why).

"Well, maybe we should start with everyone else first, so Germany can get an idea of well…us…everyone's situation." Finland suggested. Germany eagerly agreed, really not wanting to explain everything right now.

"Alright, well where should we start?" asked France.

"I think we should start with Brother. I mean, he was the first to ever legalize gay marriage, so he should be the first to tell his story!" chirped Belgium. Netherlands looked at his sister. Grunted. Inhaled his pipe (and was told that he had to put it out inside of the restaurant). Then began talking and telling his story.

"Alright, well…I'm not gay. I'm bi. Know the difference. Personally, I have been as long as I can remember, but my country has only legalized it recently." He paused. "What else is the really to say?" he looked at his sister, indicating for her to explain what he should do.

"Okay, well…tell everyone about your first love, and your hardships, and what you think we should do and all that good stuff." Suggested Belgium. Netherlands nodded.

"Hmmm….first love? So long ago. Hmmm." Everyone looked at him and waited for his answer, which took a while to come.

"Spain." "

Si?"

"Geen. (Dutch for 'no'). When we were younger I had a crush on you." He said casually.

"Eras tan linda en aquel entonces. Gracias mi amigo! (You were so cute back then! Thank you my friend!)" squeeled Spain, who then had an elbow thrusted into his ribs.

"Aww, Lovi! You were more cuter though! You still are, too! Te amo!" cooed Spain, hugging Romano tightly and trying to give him a kiss (but to which Romano responded by a head butt to Spain's stomach and a series of curse words and a blushing face.)

"Anyways," said Norway. "Please continue, Netherlands." "Ja. Alright, well that was when I realized that I liked guys." Explained Netherlands.

"I don't really remember it, it was so long ago. I just remember that I did like you. I also remember I was really confused and freaked out. I mean, when you're raised Catholic and everyone says 'grow up and get married to a good woman' it's horrible when you think that you want to get married to a man instead… So I just hid my feelings for the longest time, then eventually in my teens I fell for this human girl, and again, I was extremely confused…As I grew older, I lost contact with her, because she aged and I stayed the same, so then one day I was walking along the road in a town, and it just clicked. It was funny I guess even, how it just happened. In no time at all, I had realized I liked girls…and guys. I wasn't confused anymore, it is what it is and that was fine with me. I still feel that way today." Netherlands finished his story and began drinking his water that had just arrived. Everyone was taking sips and gulps of their drinks while staring at Netherlands, waiting for him to say something else…but he didn't.

"So who's next?" asked Belgium. Everyone looked at her, and sighing she agreed.

"Alright then. Me I guess." She took a sip of her hot chocolate and began talking.

"Well, I've always thought that it was okay to be gay and stuff…I didn't really know what it was when I was younger, but it didn't faze me. I didn't care and I was fully supportive of the people I met who were gay. It seemed as normal as a man and a woman. So one day while I was just sitting alone, I realized that I had never had romantic feelings towards anyone. It was curious…and depressing. I saw everyone in love, and all I wanted was that feeling too…but I never got it. It was then that I realized that I didn't care if I was with a man or a woman, or alone, or anything…so long as I loved it, and loved who I was with, because isn't that what matters? Isn't that what we're told since we were children? They didn't have a term for it back then…they do now. Pansexual, and that's what I am." She said proudly.

"Ve? What's that?" asked Italy, confused.

"Hehe, most people don't even know it exists, or at least the term to define it. It's when you absolutely don't care about their lover's gender or sex, all they care about is that they like the other person and visa versa." Explained Belgium.

"Ve! I like that. It makes sense." Stated Italy with a nod and a somewhat serious look.

For a while everyone went around telling their tales. Canada and how he was straight until he became friends with Cuba and he realized that he liked him more than friends like each other. Norway, because he and Denmark had been 'in love' (of sorts) for an extremely long time; to the point they don't even remember falling for each other. Sweden was gay because, point blank, he didn't feel anything romantically or sexually to women, and he loved Finland more than his own life. (At that, everyone gave a little 'aww') France was bi, as most everyone knew, because he just loved people and he loved doing it with people and he really did respect people's equal rights. Spain knew he was gay because as soon as he saw Romano all grown up, he loved him, (which was a huge shock when Spain walked up and kissed Romano for the first time without saying anything or doing anything). Romano knew he was gay because of 'fucking Spain.' Then it came to Italy.

"Ve…My story is boring though…Could we just skip mine and hear Germany's please?" begged Italy.

"No, you're going to tell us everything, just like how we've told everyone everything, so now it's your turn." Italy gulped and pondered where to begin.

"Just start where you feel your story starts, amigo." Said Spain, supportively. Italy's close friends knew how hard this was for Italy.

"Ve…alright. Well…there was a boy I liked…loved, back in the 900's and on. I didn't know it was wrong then…sorry, still not used to thinking it's okay to be gay…but back then I didn't even know that I shouldn't feel love for another boy…but I did. I would hug him and sleep with him and swim and bath with him… finally when he left, he told me that he loved me, and I told him I did too and we kissed. Nothing more, nothing less." Sighed Italy.

"Who was this boy you speak of, dearest Italy?" asked France, who was actually paying close attention to his 'little brother's' story.

"Well, his name was Holy Roman Empire…but if you know anything about history, you would know he was gone. Even though he promised to come back…but I've gotten over him and moved on. Besides, didn't someone say that first loves don't last?"

"But Italy, how did you know you were gay? I mean, liking another boy when you're just a child is normal, you don't know better. And you're always flirting with girls and talking about all sorts of things…so how did you know you were gay?" asked Canada. Italy smiled.

"Well…I never loved anyone after him…for a long time. A long, long time. I didn't look at girls, or boys, just the memory's he left me. Today, I'm over him. I've moved on and found a new love…one that I thought I had no chance in, but I do now!" said Italy happily. On his last comment, he reached his hand down and clasped Germany's, causing both nations to blush uncontrollably.

"Well, last but not least. Germany. Tell us your story now."

Okay, definitly a filler type chapter, but I wanted to establish more character types. So I hope you enjoyed. More should be uploaded soon, so keep a look out, and stay tuned!

Much Love!


	4. story

Alright...Chapter 4. This took forever to write! I tried to make it perfect, (i even used spell/grammar check!) so I hope you enjoy it!

I don't own Hetalia...sadly.

no matter how much I beg.

and plead.

It will never be mine...

*sad face*

* * *

"Okay, so please start from the beginning Germany," requested Canada, quietly.

"Alright, please tell us your story, Germany. Start from the beginning," said Finland. _Oh…that's okay; I figured no one would hear me anyways…_ thought Canada.

"Ve! We get to hear Germany's story! Tell us about the boy you like!" cheered Italy happily.

"Italien! He's not a boy! You make me sound like some sort of pervert when you say that!" shouted Germany, extremely embarrassed and blushing from ear to ear.

"Ve?" Italy had to stop and think about what he had just said.

"Oh! Oh! I'mma so sorry, Germany! Please forgive me!" begged Italy whose eyes were wide from figuring out what he had just said.

"Ja, Ja. Calm down." The blond said soothingly.

"So…where should I start?" asked Germany awkwardly.

"Well, tell us about when you were a kid and how it affected you then," said the Netherlands, hands inching towards his pipe, but getting death glares from the waitress.

"Oh…well, I don't really remember my past. At all. I just remember only the past thousand years or so…less probably." He explained.

"Weird, well tell us what you do remember." Germany nodded in agreement.

"Ja…I was living in my older brother's basement…or cellar or something for the most of my childhood…" began Germany.

"I thought Prussia lived in _your_ basement Germany?" chuckled Belgium.

"Oh, ja. He does. But I lived in my other brother's basement. He was pretty much my twin people said…at least look wise. The only difference was he had darker eyes, and a very odd sense of style, but I was treated like a servant back then, so my style was along the lines of rags. Back then I wasn't a country, but Prussia said that I was the representation for all the Germanic tribes still out there under my big brother's rule. So you see, when I was a child I wouldn't be able to have any of those experiences you all had of meeting a person and falling in love, because it didn't happen to me. There was no one for me to meet, except Prussia and my other brother on the occasion." Everyone looked at Germany perplexed.

"Ve…why do you keep saying 'older brother'? Just call him by his name, silly. If he was a country, maybe we knew him, and we could tell you more about him, and then find him again, and eat pasta together, and sing songs and..."

"Nein, Italien. Mine bruder's dead. You knew him…but I don't think you've caught on yet to who my older brother is…." said Germany, voice lowered and sad. "Ve? No...I haven't Germany! Just tell me!" Romano reached over to his brother and whispered in his ear.

"VE! Che cozza!Ho sempre pensato che coi due si assomigliavano, ma non ho mai ditto niente! E adesso scorpro che siamo fratelli! E 'proprio…non so come reagire…" (I always thought you two looked alike, but I never said anything! And it turns out you two are brothers! I just…I don't know how to react.)

"Calm down, Fratello! Romano said, squeezing his brother's hand.

"Wait...I don't get it," said Finland quietly. "What's the big deal? Who is Germany's brother?" he asked a very confused and innocent look on his face.

"Germany's older brother was Holy Roman Empire, Fin," explained Netherlands. A quiet murmur of 'oooh' spread across the group.

"So…why were you kept in the dark your whole child hood?" asked France.

"Oh, simple. Holy Rome didn't want me taking over. He thought that the German's would rebel, and that wouldn't be good because he already had the French rebelling, and we all know what happened there." said Germany. Everyone looked to France, except Italy.

"Hey! I was just doing what I had to do! Do you think I wanted to kill an innocent child?" Italy looked up and did the most unexpected thing.

"Of course you did." Italy's voice was deep and terrifying. As if all the anger he had ever felt was in that one moment. His eyes were like daggers into France's whole body and everyone cringed at the sight.

"You were a blood thirsty monster, doing whatever you wanted to! It didn't matter if it was your duty as a country or not, you would have killed Holy Rome because you wanted to you son of a bi,"

"Fusososososos. Fuusososososso." Cooed Spain, who had walked over, sat next to Italy and started to cradle and rock him. Italy immediately fell asleep.

"Just like when he was little." Laughed Spain quietly. Everyone looked shocked.

"Woah...I didn't know Italy was capable of such language! I knew Romano could…but Italy? That's just freaky!" said Belgium.

"Ja…agreed," muttered Germany, staring in disbelief at his Italian friend.

"Alright, mi amigo. Please continue."

"I want Italy to hear this too…" Germany said awkwardly.

"Oh he will, he hears everything when he's asleep…it's a weird gift of his…that damn bastard." Romano said frustrated. Germany thought back to all the times the Italian snuck into his bed and while he thought he was asleep he had said some things…along the lines of "I might possibly like you" or "I know I like you," or " my boss is going to kill me if I don't stop liking you." Etc. Sighing, Germany continued.

"Okay, well my big brother _was_ the Holy Roman Empire. To me, he was a bad guy, but after he died and I was a thriving country, I realized that I would do the same as he did to me to protect my country. Because of that, I can't hate him. Although, I do hate that I was stuck in a cellar for many years of my life, it's one of the reasons I'm so pale.

"But even when I got out and I became Germany, not just a representation of the German people, but the country, I still didn't like anyone. I didn't know what it was to like anyone. I knew I liked Prussia because he took care of me and helped me grow, I knew I liked Vati because he took care of me when I wasn't even a child yet, I knew I liked my dogs because well, I love dogs. But I didn't understand this feeling that everyone kept talking about. Bruder would sometimes go on and on about Hungary, in a more than friends way, but it didn't make sense to me at all. So for the longest time I didn't have any friends but mine bruder and dogs…." Germany took a small break from talking, letting everyone absorb what he was talking about.

"So…never? You've never liked anyone? At all? Not ever?" asked France, sounding sad.

"Nein, I like someone now…but it's only recent…" "Recent? Like the past few days? A month? What, mon ami?" Asked France, who was honestly interested.

"Nein…well…for a while in human years, but to me it hasn't been any time at all…I'm still getting used to it. It doesn't feel like it's been long, and then I think about it, and it feels like I've loved him forever…" Everyone looked at Germany.

"Mon ami! So passionate!" exclaimed France. Everyone agreed.

"I didn't know you had those types of feelings towards anything!" joked Belgium.

"Oh…sorry. I forgot you all were here….Not that I was ignoring you! Nein! Ich was just so focused…sorry." Germany said, his face now pure red again. Everyone laughed. Embarrassed, Germany took another gulp of his beer.

"Cn'tnue," said Sweden, who seemed to have been paying very close attention to Germany's story. Nodding, Germany began again.

"Well…I first felt that feeling in the 1940's…" he said.

"What feeling?" asked Canada.

"Um…well you know...when you're head goes all light, and your stomach gets all dizzy and your chest gets really tight. That one…"

"Ooh, oui. We all know that one." Said France, smiling and resting his head on his arm, giving Germany a weird look; one of which Germany continued to ignore.

"Well…I didn't know what It was, and I thought I was sick, so I saw a doctor…he said I was fine…and that it was just that I liked someone probably. This came as a huge shock to me. I didn't even know what it meant to like someone. I knew men and women were supposed to like each other, so I thought back to everyone I had seen in the past week….and I had no interactions with any women…at all. I realized that for the past week, I had only been around four people…My boss, Bruder, Japan…and Italy," Everyone gave a little 'aww' noise, knowing what Germany was going to say.

"So I went to my boss, and told him that I think I liked someone…because I thought my boss was the smartest person in the world. He brought me out of a depression, he saved my people, it was hard not to admire him; though now I know how wrong I was to admire and follow him. Anyways…he asked me who, and said that if I really liked her, I should introduce her to him…then I told him that it wasn't a girl…and the look he got…It is rare that I'm ever truly scared of something…but this frightened me to the point where I had night mares for months." Everyone could picture what Germany was talking about, they understood perfectly.

"So he told me I _was _sick and that I had two options, I could either get cured of my sickness… or go to a death camp. I was so confused. The doctor had said I wasn't sick, and I trust my doctors. But I trusted my boss more, but I asked him what was wrong with me. He said that men shouldn't like other men, and that it was worse because I didn't like a German. Today I know that he was being kind, as much as a horrible person like him could be, he could have shot me dead, but he couldn't. Even if he showed it by killing millions, he loved Germany. He didn't want me to die; he honestly wanted to help me no matter what. So I took his help. He took me personally to doctor's who claimed they could help…they didn't. So after a year of confusion…he just straight up told me that he can't help me, and that I'll just have to hide it. I know I kind of sound like I'm fond of him in this time, and I was…but I have to admit, that I, not Germany, but Ludwig, wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for him, he didn't let me die, and I'm thankful for that." Silence. No one knew what to say. They understood what he was talking about.

"I didn't know what was wrong with me aside from liking another man; I didn't do anything wrong, right? I kept it to myself, and I didn't act on it, despite how much I wanted to over time. So I stayed silent, and I didn't let anyone know, and I hid it from myself even.

"So one day, I remember it perfectly; I was ready to tell him… I couldn't hide it any longer…but then on October 3, 1943." Everyone nodded solemnly. They knew what that day was.

"The day Italy declared war on Germany," breathed Spain quietly. Romano nodded.

"I'm sorry, Germany," said Romano.

"Vat?" he was shocked. An apology was something not necessary…but also something extremely rare to come from Romano.

"I said I'm sorry, damnit! You see…I was the one who joined the allies, not my brother. He _did _think what you were doing was wrong, but he was dedicated to you and your friendship together. My country had to get out though, you know that. But my brother never wanted to leave you," explained Romano. Germany was shocked. He knew that, but just to hear an apology from Romano was….worth it.

"It's alright. I know. At the time I was furious. I had lost my only true friend…but it was my own fault. It's alright." Germany reached out a hand and rested it on Romano's shoulder reassuringly.

"You better think so…bastard." Romano scooted closer to Spain and his brother and told Germany to continue.

"Well…I kind of…went crazy as you all know…my people were dying, my friends were leaving me, and people just like I, were being killed…and I was supporting it. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but my boss said that if I didn't keep it up, that I would become even sicker…so I followed him and didn't stop. When we lost, I thought I would die of this sickness...but I was somewhat relieved. If I died, then I would finally be able to be free of these feelings. So the war ended and slowly everything became better, but I never forgot those feelings I had…I thought that because we lost, I became even more sick and now I was dying. It took me ten years to realize I wasn't sick, and that I just…well was gay. I had admitted it to myself, but no one else. I figured it would be my own little secret. So when Italy visited me after 10 years, I was thrilled…and I was so close to telling him right then and there….but I wasn't able to. When I saw him, I thought he would hate me. I killed so many people…he couldn't accept me even as a friend again; but he did." Germany was smiling now, along with everyone else. It was such a sweet story and everyone was paying close attention to him now, hanging on every word he said.

"So…you like Ita?" asked Spain, confused. He was responded by a whole bunch of face palms.

"Si, you bastard. Have you not been paying attention?"

"Si I have!" Romano and Spain began to bicker. Spain smiling at Romano and holding him, and Romano cursing, blushing, and trying to back away from the Spaniard holding him.

"Let Germany finish the story!" shouted Canada. Germany and the rest of the group looked at him in disbelief. "Oh...alright then." Said Germany, who was one of the many caught off guard by the sudden out burst from Canada.

"Well….nothing else really happened. Italy and I have stayed friends…and I haven't done anything to change that…just being friends with him is enough for now…" sighed Germany. He was fully content with his situation.

"That is a wonderful story, Germany," said Norway. Finland agreed, and Sweden was tearing up.

"Um...danke?" said Germany, confused by their reactions.

"Germany, you need to tell Italy…you do know he loves you, don't you?" said Spain.

"Nein…he still loves Holy Rome…He could never love me the way I do. As I said, I am fine in this situation. As long as he's happy."

"But Germany!" shouted Belgium.

"You need to tell him to his face. Not just for you, but for Italy. He _needs_ to know the truth!"

"Ja…I know…But I don't want to ruin our friendship. It took a long time for me to become friends with him again, and I'm not going to ruin it over something as small as me," but Germany was cut off.

"Something as small as you loving me?" whispered Italy. He was awake…Germany forgot that he heard everything he was saying…

"I don't mean it like that, Italien! I just mean that," Germany was in panic mode.

"Stai zitto, Germania! (shut up, Germany!)" Germany, as well as everyone else was taken aback.

"eh?Umm…Italien..sorry…" but Germany couldn't finish his stuttering words. Italy had grabbed Germany by the collar and pulled the blond man to him. He pressed Germany's lips to his own. After a moment or two, or what seemed like forever for Germany, their lips separated. Italy's caramel colored eyes were staring right into Germany's sky blue ones.

"You do not get to decide this by yourself."

* * *

Alright...chapter 4. done! So. long. to. write. I finished at exatly 1:48 and started this morning at 10:50. XD

I hope you all enjoyed it, and will continue reading!

The next chapter should be out soon, so stay tuned!

I appriciate all the responses I've been getting for this story, you all make me so happy! It thrills me that there are people out there who 100% support gay rights. Maybe this story could even change some peoples minds? (doubt it, but it's worth a try!)

So please review and tell me what you thought of this chapter! :3

Much Love 3

hetaliadict!


	5. fight

This was supposed to a bit longer, but I got really sleepy. So consider this a filler!

Enjoy!

* * *

Germany nodded happily. A huge smile spread across his face and blushing like he had a 103 degree fever. Aside from the kisses Italy gave him every day, and the hugs as well, he had never kissed anyone. Ever. And he knew he liked it. Germany rested his head on Italy's chest and Italy hugged him tight and close to him.

"Shh..It's alright. You just can't decide things on your own. If you think I won't approve of something or not like you or anything along those lines…ask me. I'll answer. Don't assume things Germany." Explained Italy, patting Germany's head in the process. Germany nodded again, messing up Italy's shirt. Everyone laughed.

" So cute!" squealed Belgium; it was obvious that she and Hungary were good friends. Germany lifted his head up from it's place on Italy's chest and looked him in the eye. The German had an expression never seen before by anyone. It was sheer happiness. It was like all the joy and good things that had ever happened to him were in that one moment and were shown on his face. A broad smile and sparkling blue eyes were beaming at his Italian friend.

"Ve! Germania e cosi carino! (Germany is so cute!)" Germany didn't understand what his friend said, but he took it as a complement non the less. In less than one day, Germany realized he had come out fully to himself, all of his peers, told practically his life story, and had his first real kiss. Just remembering what happened less than two minutes ago caused him to blush again. Today, wasn't that bad of a day, was it? He thought.

"So are you two dating now, or what?" asked France, winking at Germany.

"Umm…" began Germany, but to be cut off by. "Vee..we just came out! Is now the best time?" he said, sadly.

"Well, Germany. How long have you liked our little Ita?" asked Spain.

"Since the 40's." he said simply in reply.

"And Italy. How long have you liked Germany?" asked France.

"Since…the 40's too I guess!"

"So, you've both been waiting 72 years to find out that you two felt the same for each other. I think you two should stop waiting." Said France. Romano slammed his fist on the table, causing the glasses to shake.

"Listen up you bastardo's." he shouted, catching the attention of the majority of the people sitting and eating.

"My fratello and this macho potato can do whatever they want, you are not allowed to interfere and make my fratello upset, because if you do…I'll throw a tomato at you…and then the bastard Spain over here would become very angry that I wasted a perfectly good tomato on you, and then he'll beat you up. Got it?" Comanded Romano. Everyone nodded, including Germany and Italy.

"Bueno!" said Spain happily.

"Now who is ready for some food!" he suggested, trying to ease the tension Romano had built. Everyone cheered in agreement and the waitress came over to take their orders.

"All right darlin's what would you all like to eat?" she asked, a slight country twang to her voice.

"Pastaa!" shouted Italy enthusiastically, raising his hand.

"Pizza, please bella." Romano said, giving a wink to the waitress.

"Lovi!" whined Spain, who was pushing his lower lip out in a pout.

"Umm…Alright, what type of pizza?" she asked, starting to feel a bit awkward.

"The best of them, bella." Romano said again. She nodded and scribbled something down on her note pad.

"How about you bring out one huge pizza for us all to share?" suggested Canada.

"Oh! How about we all share a pizza?" suggested Finland. _Again? Really?_ Thought Canada. The waitress nodded and left to put in their order.

XxXxXxXx

The group was munching down on their slices of pizza. Pepperoni, sasague, cheese, vegitables, all the toppings you could think of were on that pizza. Finland, Sweden, and Norway were happily eating their slices that were covered in anchovies and onions, and Spain was feeding Romano a tomato covered slice. The only two not eating the pizza were Germany and Italy, who were sharing a large plate of pasta together. Everyone was having a good time. They had all just become closer to each other and were enjoying their meal when something just had to come and interrupt things.

_Can never get a break can we?_ Thought Germany. The group turned around to look for the annoyingly loud voice that had interrupted their fun. America was walking in with Russia, China, and Japan. Looking around the restaurant, Japan saw his friends and waved sheepishly. He began to walk over and say hello when a hand on his shoulder held him back.

"Are you going over there to join those homo's?" questioned America, who was glaring at Japan.

"Of course not, America-San." Japan gave his friends a glance and an apologetic look, and continued walking to a table with the rest of his group. When Japan, America, China, and Russia, were all sitting together, Russia loudly began talking. "Of course the fags would be eating and sharing food. What else would they be doing, Da?" he asked. America and China laughed.

"True, Russia dude! It's sick the way they feed each other." Spain put the slice he was feeding Romano back on a plate and looked down at the floor.

"Shut the fuck up you pretentious prick!" Shouted Romano to America.

"Rather a prick then a queer any day!" America shouted back angrily.

"What the fuck did that bastard just call me?" asked Romano, fully knowing what he was just called.

"Romano, don't. Please don't start anything, that just makes you as bad as them." Pleaded Spain, holding Romano's arm. Romano took a deep breath and calmed down slightly.

"Fine, but only because I fucking want to…not because you said so you tomato bastard..." he mumbled. America looked right at Romano.

"Not going to do anything?" America taunted. "Of course not. You're too much of a pansy to take on a real man, you homo." He scoffed. By now people were watching and whispering to each other around the hall.

"Did you just call me a pansy?" Romano growled.

"You just called me a pansy!" Romano was infuriated. Call him gay, fine, at least that's the truth. But to call him a pansy meant he wasn't even manly. Romano jumped out of the booth and slammed America's head onto the table. America looked up, his nose bleeding.

"You fucking fag! You made my nose bleed!" complained America, stating the obvious. America stood up and threw a punch at Romano, but Romano dodged and threw a quick, yet hard punch, to America's gut.

"What the hell you ass hole!" shouted America, throwing more punches towards the Italian, who danced around each of them and not getting hit by one. Instead, Romano was the one delivering all the blows.

"Stop it, Lovi!"

"Fratello, stop it! You'll kill him!"

"let it go Roma!" Everyone began begging Romano to stop, but he wouldn't. He kept punching and kicking at America. Russia soon intervened and with one swift punch to the chest, knocked Romano out.

"Alright! You guys are out!" shouted the manager.

* * *

Alright! Hope you liked the filler! I am now going to take a nap and wake up refreshed so I can write more! XD

Stay tuned!


	6. Family

"I didn't know Romano had skills like that." Said Germany. "That was quite…surprising."

"Ve, people keep forgetting, but my fratello and myself _are_ the head's of the mafia…not just Italy."

"You've got to be kidding me?" laughed Norway. "You two? Mafia? But aren't you supposed to carry around guns, and wear suits and hats and all that stuff from the movies?"

"Bastardo!" Romano woke up just in time to hear Norway. "That is the stupid stereotype. Even though it does make us look pretty bad ass…but we're bad ass none the less damnit!" complained Romano. He was being carried on Spain's back due to being knocked unconscious by Russia about half an hour prior.

"So what the fuck happened, damnit?" asked Romano, rubbing his chest.

"Well, you got punched by Russia, and then we were kicked out." Explained Canada.

"Now we're on our way to the hotel to get our bags, and catch the plain's back home." Said Finland.

The meeting was in Chicago, Illinois; so all the countries had to pack their bags and fly down to the United States. Everyone was booked a room at a five star Hilton, and had flights back to their countries scheduled for the day after the meeting.

"But our flight's are tomorrow. Why are we going now?" asked Romano, still drowsy and in pain from the fight.

"Because none of us want to be in the same room, let alone city, with America right now." Spat Belgium.

"Oh…makes sense. So where the fuck are we going, you bastards?"

"Well, we changed some of our flight plans for today."

"You're coming home with me Lovi. We are going to take a nice long vacation on a beach." Said Spain happily, and gave Romano's leg a squeeze, and Romano hugged Spain's head.

"I need a break. Good thing you think ahead you bastard."

"Si! And the Nordics are leaving for Sweden together; Bel and Neth are leaving together as well. France is leaving with them. Germany and Italy are leaving for Germany's home, and Canada is taking a train back to his home in Ontario." Stated Spain. Germany approved of the plan, but it desgusted him. He felt like he was running away, and retreating in a battle like Ita…I mean, like a coward; but it was the best plan they could all think of. Everyone had a rough day, so just to take a small vacation and work things out with their loved ones and friends would be wonderful.

XxXxXxX

When the gang got to the hotel, they were greeted by other countries sitting in the common area; including Prussia, Hungary, and Austria. After seeing them, the three sat up and walked over to Germany and Italy.

"Bruder…" sighed Germany. The look on Prussia's face was unreadable. A mixture between hatred and anger maybe? But before Germany could work it out, Prussia stopped right in front of Germany and embraced him tightly.

"Ich..I don't know why you didn't tell me..but I guess you had your reasons…" Prussia let go of his brother.

"Just know that, like always, I will support you. Always. Got it bruder? Ich liebe dich no matter what." Germany was close to tears. He wasn't an emotional person, but today had just been so eventful, and to have his brother say that he still loved him, and that he would no matter what, was just the thing to make his day even more amazing than it already was. Germany and Prussia hugged once more.

"Come on West, real men don't cry! Just because you're gay doesn't mean you have to stop being tough you know! Kesesese!" Joked Prussia. Germany smiled.

"I know…but…today's been a long day…thank you bruder," Prussia nodded and smiled.

"Don't worry about it. The awesome me accepts everyone for who they are. Just like how I've accepted that America is a douchewaffel and doesn't deserve to even set eyes on mine awesome little bruder." Prussia patted Germany on the back, and they all began walking to their rooms. Hungary walked with Italy, a huge smile plastered on her face.

"So…Italy. You like Germany, riiight?" she asked, her face beaming with happiness and excitement for the yaoi stories she would hear in the future.

"Ve? Oh! Si! Of course! And Hungary! He likes me too! He does! He said so! Ve, at first I was worried that he liked a different person who liked pasta…but it was me! I'm the guy who likes pasta!" Italy was ecstatic. He seemed to be unable to hold down his enthusiasm and began spinning and dancing around with Hungary, who happily took part in his shenanigans.

"Hey! Italien. I'll be in our room packing, alright?" Called Germany, who was standing by an elevator.

"Germania! Wait, I want to come too!" he called back, but Hungary held him and kept him from moving.

"No! Tell me everything first…then you can go. Okay?" she begged. Italy was torn between his man and the woman who was a sister to him.

"Vee..alright. I'll see you up there in a while, Germany!" Italy waved, and blew a kiss; to which Germany blushed madly at and awkwardly stepped into the elevator mumbling something about Italy being a little to affectionate for Germany to handle.

"So what do you want to know?" asked Italy, turning back to Hungary.

"Everything."

XxXxXxX

Germany inserted the key into the door and stepped into his suite he shared with Italy. Italy had several sets of clothing sprawled across the floor. _We were only here for a day! Why did he pack so much clothing?_ Wondered Germany. Italy had a set of Prada luggage stuffed to the brim with clothing and other items. Germany on the other hand, had his military duffel bag filled solely with two sets of clothing, a book for entertainment, and some toiletries.

"Italian's…like their fashion don't they?" said Germany, as he started picking Italy's clothing off the ground. He had never seen his friend wear these, but he could only picture how handsome Italy would look in the black silk suit with red tie, and the pinstripe suit with fedora. Germany neatly folded all of Italy's clothing and opened one of the suit cases to put them in. To Germany's surprise, the case he opened wasn't filled with more clothes, or accessories, or other necessities for a trip; but instead had several guns, and other weapons. How Italy managed to get the bag through customs at the airports, he'll never understand.

"Mafia…Still can't get over that…" muttered Germany, who was for some reason smiling at the thought of Italy holding a gun and looking very cool. _No. Nein. Nein nein neinnein!_ Germany shook his head frantically trying to get the very good looking picture out of his mind.

"Don't be a pervert, Deutschland." He said quietly to himself. Right before he closed up the weapon filled carrier, he saw a note book. Curious, he picked it up and searched through the pages. Each one was picture after picture. Nature scenes drawn with crayons, portraits of random people he saw on the plane ride over to the states drawn with pen. He kept skimming through the sketches until he came to the last few pages. On them, were pencil sketches of Germany sleeping; all different expressions and positions, and all just as wonderful as the last. Germany was very embarrassed, but he saw all the talent his friend had, and felt nothing but pride. Germany put the note book down, a small smile on his face, and closed the bag. He put the clothing in the _other _carrier, and laid down on the bed. He was exhausted. He hadn't noticed it either, due to all the adrenaline running through his body, but now he noticed that his whole body was shaking. He replayed the day's events in his head. It felt like he had accomplished more in one day, than he had in the whole time he has been a country. He began to drift off to sleep, but then the room's door swung open and a loud 've' noise floated into Germany's ears. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

"Ve? Germania?" called Italy. He walked over to their bed and saw Germany sleeping soundly.

"Vee. So handsome." Sighed Italy. He brushed his hand over the German's face and smiled. Italy began taking off his clothing, he too was tiered, so he decided to sleep; and everyone knew that Italy enjoyed sleeping in the nude. Italy turned the lights off, closed the curtains, and climbed into the bed where his friend lay. Nuzzling up against Germany's chest, Italy began to sing a random lullaby before the two of the drifted off to sleep together.


	7. senses

I wanted to write more yesterday but I just couldn't, even though I stayed up all night, just tumbl'n round tumblr and reading other fan fictions

so I wrote half of this chapter yesterday, and the other half today. it's the longest chapter I've ever written! yay!

please enjoy!

* * *

Sun shone thru the cracks in the curtains causing Germany, like always, to wake up first. He opened his eyes slowly and adjusted to the dim lights seeping into the room from the outside. Looking over to his side, he saw Italy. He was laying on his side, curled up slightly and holding Germany's hand. Germany couldn't help but smile. Germany did something he would later blame on the fact he was 'half asleep'. He leaned down, and kissed Italy. Nothing serious, just a small, quick, innocent kiss; one that caused Italy to wake up with a smile. Italy blinked open his golden brown eyes and looked up at Germany.

"Boungiorno, Germania." Whispered Italy.

"Guten morgen, Italien." Germany replied. The two laid there like that for a moment until Germany's eyes drifted over to the ticking clock on the wall. 8:47 am. The day _after_ they were supposed to catch a flight back home to Germany. Germany shot up frantically and stared at the clock with wide eyes, as if it could possibly change to the day before if he looked at it long enough.

"Ve? Germania? What is it?" asked Italy with a yawn.

"We…we missed our flight to Germany." Sighed Germany, slightly frustrated.

"we fell asleep and missed our flight." Italy looked at Germany with a confused expression, like always.

"Well, why don't we just catch another plane later this week, and for now, travel around America! There are some sights I've wanted to see!" exclaimed Italy happily, clapping his hands. Germany thought about it. Everyone had already caught their flight back home, or would be doing so today. He would get to spend alone time with Italy, and see the sights…it was a win / win situation!

"Ja. Alright. That actually sounds fun." He asked. Italy put a hand to his chin in a thinking pose. His eyes narrowed and his nose squinted up, causing Germany's heart to flutter.

"I know! I want to go to D.C. I've only ever been there on business…but I wanted to see the monuments and meuseums! We could stay there, and leave out on Monday. I would like to see what church is like in America. The only difference I hope is the language." Joked Italy.

"That sounds like a good idea, Italien. I've been wanting to go to some meuseums too."

"Ve…Umm..Well..Germania?" fumbled Italy.

"Ja? What is it, Italien?"

"Well…would you mind if I took you there….to D.C…..as a date?" Italy looked Germany in the eye when he said this, his auburn locks shining and his eyes twinkling.

_A date? A date…with Italien? That is more than I've ever dreamed of! _Thought Germany. Keeping his emotions in check, he replied with :

"Ja…that would be nice." At this, Italy began 've-ing' and coming up with plans for their little vacation together.

XxXxXxXxX

The two had taken a flight to the nation's capital. After they had found their luggage, the two walked around the air port.

"I'll go to the hotel directory. We'll need a place to stay." Germany said, and began walking over to one of the counters with advertisements for five star hotels, indoor swimming pools, and breakfast.

"Ve! Germany! Don't worry about it. Let me take care of this." Italy reached into his pocket and pulled out an extremely expensive looking phone. He fiddled with it for a while, touching the screen and dialing numbers in at a rapid pace. He lifted the device to his ear when it began ringing.

"Ciao!" greeted Italy to the person on the other end of the call. All Germany could hear was muffled Italian.

"Un hotel in D.C. favore." Italy hung up the phone and began walking to Germany, who stood in between Italy and the hotel booth.

"What did you just do?" he asked, very confused.

"Oh, that?" Italy laughed. "I just got us a hotel." He said simply.

"Where? How much?" interrogated Germany. He didn't mean to sound authoritative, but his personality of worrying about the finer details was getting to him.

"Where? I don't know, Luca should text back with the information soon. And it's free. I travel everywhere for free." Explained Italy, as if it was normal to just call someone up and get a hotel reservation for free on a whim.

"How! No average person can just do that!" Germany was slightly angry at the fact Italy seemed to be living a life of luxury."

"Four words, Germania." Began Italy. "head. Of. The. Mafia. And I'm rich." Italy laughed.

"Rich? Your country is in a recession along with everyone else though…"

"Si…but Feliciano Vargas isn't. He's been saving his money his whole life, and he was in Grandpa Rome's will along with Fratello…so we have the whole inheritance to the Roman Empire. As far as human living goes, Romano and I are set."

"How come you never told me this?" asked Germany.

"Ve? You've never asked, silly." At that, Italy's phone rang indicating a new text. The Italian read it over.

"Vee, alright Germany, follow me!"

The two left the airport, caught a cab, and Italy told the driver where to go.

XxXxXx

After what seemed like hours of sitting in traffic, Italy and Germany finally arrived at their hotel.

It was one of those fancy hotels that you can't describe with words. It was in one of the historical parts of the city, and surrounded by a huge garden. It looked more like a mansion that France would own, than a hotel. The two stepped out of the cab, Italy smiled at the driver, took their luggage out of the cab, and started walking down the stone path to the front doors of the mansion….._hotel._

"So how much was the cab fare?" asked Germany, who was, as always, being a worry wart about money.

"Haha. Free." Italy smiled. Was it so normal for everything he did to come at no financial expense!

"Really! That trip would have cost more than fifty dollars, Italy. How do you get off with it being _free_?" Germany didn't mean to sound as angry as he did.

"Ve! I'm sorry Germany! I'm not a spoiled kid or anything! I don't live a life of luxury! Ve…well yes I do, but I worked hard to get it that way! More hard than Romano! So please don't hate me!" rambled the Italian.

"I don't hate you…and I wasn't trying to sound angry or mean. I'm sorry, Italien." Germany sighed. Italy's face beamed.

"Ve! Yay! I don't like angry Germany…well actually I do. I like all Germany's," the two started walking down the long path to the hotel again.

"I like nice Germany, and happy Germany, and Germany when he trains, and Germany when he cooks, and Germany at night…I really like Germany at night. Your face looks so peaceful ve…..and your hair is down and it makes you look even more handsome." Italy started to cling to Germany's arm as he listed all the 'wonderful things' Italy loved about him. Germany couldn't think of anything to say for a long time; he was to embarrassed at how easily the Italian could display his feelings so openly.

"Well…having my hair down isn't very professional of me." He said quickly. _Really? That's what you say? Not thank you? Or maybe say that you love the way he sings when he doesn't think I'm looking, or how when he's outside and he opens his eyes when he paints, they sparkle like crazy in the most beautiful way I've ever seen?_ Thought Germany, who was now mentally beating himself over the head, and was blushing like an idiot. Though somehow, over the years, Italy has become very good at reading Germany, so he decided to play along as to not further embarrass him.

"Vee…but we're on vacation now, Germany! Not a business trip. And not just vacation…but a date!" Italy said triumphantly, as if just to get to this point it took all of his courage to muster up the will to finally ask Germany out properly. After thinking about it, Germany realized that it probably did.

"Ja…I guess you're right I guess." Mumbled Germany. He started fidgeting with some strands his sleeked back hair.

"Germany! You don't have to do it now, you'll mess up your hair." Stated Italy, and again, he was right. Germany removed his hand from his head, and the strands he was playing with were now sticking up at awkward and random angles. The two men looked at each other, then broke out laughing. It might not have been all that funny, but it broke the small amount of tension between them. When the two finally got to the door and Germany was about to open it for Italy, it opened by itself.

A butler of sorts stood behind it.

"Hello. You must be master Vargas." The butler said with a bow.

"Si! I am him! Feliciano Vargas, at your service," said Italy, who held out a hand for the man to shake. The butler awkwardly took it, usually guests just order him around, opposed to formally greeting him. Germany could tell that it was very awkward for the Italian, despite his friend not showing it outwardly. Italy didn't mind shaking hands…but he preferred to greet people by shouting good mornings, and good days, and questions of how the family has been, and then a huge hug and two kisses, one on each cheek. Germany laughed at how his friend had tried to follow American customs for a change, well his country is where the term 'when in Rome' comes from.

They followed the butler through the hotel, he showed them everything. The swimming pool, the workout room, the game room, the other swimming pool, the concert hall, the dining hall, the library, the breakfast nook, the kitchen, the list just went on and on. It was all actually quite fascinating to both Germany and Italy. Germany focused on what the butler was saying, trying to retain every inch of information so he wouldn't have to bother him again if he or Italy forgot; and Italy who was gazing lovingly at the architecture of the room, whispering things like, "look at the balustrades!" and "Oh! Look at the Roman arches!" he shouted giddily.

"You know architecture, young master?" asked the butler with a surprised tone.

"Si! I love architecture, I think it is beautiful!"

"Are you an architect maybe?"

"Oh no! Ve, I'm just interested in it. I've never done it as a carreer…but I have designed houses and some churches and other buildings before. In fact, I designed and built my own house!" The butler and Italy began chatting casually about the styles used in the hotel, none of which the German understood. He preferred paying attention to the fact that it seemed he knew so little about Italy. He had never even been to Italy's house, how would he know that he had designed it? It was always the Italian who came to the German's house. Sure, Germany visited Italy's country, but they were always in a place too far away from his house to stay, so they used hotels.

After about a forty minute tour and conversations held between the butler and Italy, they arrived at their room.

"Here are your keys, young masters. Please just send a call down to the front desk if you need anything. Have a nice day." The butler handed Italy and Germany both two cards and left. Italy unlocked the door and walked inside. Not to Germany's surprise after seeing the whole hotel, the room was huge. There was a huge bathroom, with a full on walk in bath, a huge king sized bed that looked like it was made of clouds it was so fluffy, huge floor to ceiling windows, a flat screen TV on the wall, pretty much just a room of luxury. Italy ran and jumped on the bed. Germany walked over and before he could sit down, Italy grabbed Germany by the wrist and pulled him down so that they were both lying down, eye to eye on the bed.

"So where do you want to go first?" asked Italy.

XxXxXxX

The two decided to walk, because it wasn't that far. They were heading to one of the most famous museums in the world: The Smithsonian. Italy was very excited to see all the exhibits, and Germany was just excited to be around Italy. Italy kept going on and on about the exhibits he wanted to see, as he read them off from the brochure.

"Vee, and the art of video games sounds cool…oh! A history of Italy! Want to go and see if they got it right? Ve, that would be so funny if they got me all wrong. Oooh! Vee, we should go to the zoo next and see the polar bea…." Italy stopped dead in his tracks and hid behind a nearby bush, dragging Germany with him.

"Ow…" said Germany, who's arm felt like it was yanked out of its socket…_how come the Italian brothers are so strong all of a sudden! _He wondered.

"Shh." Said Italy, his finger on his mouth indicating for Germany to be quiet.

"What?" Germany whispered as quietly as he could. Italy just pointed. Following his finger, Germany saw what he was pointing at. Not too far away, just across the street from them, was America. He was walking alone and had a look of great depression across his face.

"Vee..I wonder if he's alright." Said Italy sympathetically.

"What? He is a jerk, and you want him to be alright?" Italy nodded.

"Just because he was a jerk…or is a jerk…a total huge jerk that hurt my feelings and made me want to go all mafia on his ass…haha sorry, a little Romano moment there. But that doesn't mean that I want to see him sad. I hate sad. I like happy." Explained Italy. Germany though, was still a little shocked by the Romano moment Italy just had, that he didn't fully pay attention; but he nodded anyways.

"Lets follow him!" suggested Italy eagerly. "We can be all…ninja! Like Japan!" but before Germany could say no, and that we should respect America's privacy, Italy stood up from behind the bush and ran across the street and hid behind a mail box only a few feet behind America. Turning to Germany, Italy eagerly waved his hand at Germany, gesturing for him to come over to the mail box as well. Germany obliged. He trotted across the street and crouched behind Italy awkwardly, putting his hands on the Italian's shoulders.

"What now, Italien?" asked Germany, playing along with his friend's little game.

"Ve. Now we wait for him to move up more, than we follow, and we do this until he steps into a building, then we do that…and find out what he's up to." Said Italy, getting into his roll of spy, ninja…person.

"He's probably just here for business…this _is _his capital," said Germany, as if it was all too obvious that it was nothing interesting.

"Vee…no. I know he's up to something…something not right. I can sense it." He said, 100% sure of himself.

"Your Italian senses are tingling?" joked Germany, hazarding a smile and a laugh.

"Si! Exactly! My Italian senses are tingling, and they tell me that America isn't up to good things right now..ve." Germany rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"Alright…fine. But if I say we're done, we're done, alright?" Italy agreed, and then began following America again.

They followed this pattern for a while. Stopping behind a parked car, a bush, a trash can, etc, and then following behind America when he went further ahead. This continued until America turned into a large building. Germany and Italy sneakily followed behind and watched America as he climbed the stairs to the top floor. Following as quietly as possible, they were led to a room. America had closed the door behind him, so Germany and Italy couldn't follow any more, instead Italy put his hands to the door and cupped his ear, trying to listen in.

"Hey you guys! Sorry I'm late, I had some business to take care of." Shouted America happily.

"Aiyah! By business do you mean stopping for a burger, aru?" asked a recognizable voice: China.

"Yup! But without food, the hero can't work! So deal with it, commie."

Italy turned to look at Germany.

"Vee! China's in there Germany!" Italy whispered, and then put his head back to the door.

"So America, what is this emergency meeting about?" asked a British man, obviously England.

"Oh! Yea…well we're all aware of this ever growing problem across our wonderful earth." Began America.

"Couldn't have said it better, chap. We all know how bad global warming is, and we need to put a stop to it, so I propose that…"

"Dude! Global warming? Heck no. I'm talking about those filthy gays." Said America.

"Da! Do you have a plan against them?" asked Russia.

"Actually, I do. Call me an extremist, but I invited some other guys to come today. You know them…but they're not part of our little group."

"Well invite them in, aru! It's rude to keep guests waiting." Scolded China.

"Sure thing dudes. Just don't freak out. I think that they might be able to help us with this growing epidemic, their not here because I'm friends with them… I hate them… but I hate gays more."

"Aiyah! Just let them in already!"

"Fine, fine. You guys can come in!" Italy could hear another door on the inside of the room open, and the sounds of people walking in.

"My friends, these are some pretty smart dudes on the subject: Algeria, Libya, Morocco, South Sudan, Sudan, Tusnia, Gambia, Guinea, Mauritania, Senegal, Cameroon, Tanzania, Botswana, Western Sahara, Somaliland, Barbados, Dominica, Trinidad and Tobago, Kuwait, Lebanon, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Syria, United Arab Emirates, Yemen, Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, Iran, Pakistan, Brunei, Burma, Malasyia, Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, and Samoa." America finished introducing the new nations.

Italy jumped back in horror after America had listed all of his guests. Germany, who was not listening in, did not understand what had shocked Italy.

"Germany…we need to get out of here now." Italy said, his voice unwavering and very authoritative.

"What's wrong Italien?" he whispered back.

"Their all here…" Italy said, his voice shaking slightly now.

"Who's here?" Germany said, grabbing a hold of Italy to hold him still and to focus.

"All of them…or most of them at least…all the countries…" Italy's voice became too quiet for Germany to hear.

"All of which countries, Italien?" he was becoming some what impatient.

"All of the countries where homosexuality is illegal…punished by prison and even death, Germany. We need to get out of here now." Italy said, his voice becoming more panicked and high pitched. Just then the door clicked open.

"You're not going anywhere, you fags."

* * *

I know, I know...I'm horrible. Don't kill me!

Please review and all that good stuff! :3

Much love 3


	8. Broken

Sorry it took so long! It's a really long chapter! XD

I hope you all like it and thank you to EVERYONE who has responded and left replies! Everyone is so nice and it makes me happy that you're not just nice to me about my story with saying you like it, but that you all support gay rights etc! SPREAD THE LOVE PEOPLE, SPREAD THE LOVE! 3

okay, enough with that.

I don't own Hetalia. duh.

* * *

"Please don't hurt me! I haven't had any pasta today, and I don't want to die without having any pasta! And I'm still a virgin! You can't kill a virgin! You just can't!" Italy continued with his rant while Germany stood up and glared at America.

"Not going anywhere?" he asked, repeating what America had just said.

"Yeah," America turned to his guests and said, "Looks like we have our first volunteer's guys." Smile's crept across their faces in the most sadistic way a person could smile.

"I say we take the big one first," suggested Mauritania, pointing a finger at Germany.

"Woah, dude. We don't want to kill him." Laughed America.

"Besides, he's a nation, he won't die very easily. Let's just see what you can do to knock the gay out of him or whatever." Oman and Burma walked forwards. They were quite large and very well built, just as big as Germany by the looks of it. They stepped towards Germany and were about to grab him when Italy jumped up and blocked their way.

"No one touches Germany!" shouted Italy, throwing his arms out as to form a barrier between the two men and Germany. They laughed.

"No one but you? Isn't that right you filfthy pederaste!" growled Lebanon, and giving a hard kick to Italy's gut, causing him to fall over in pain.

"Italien!" shouted Germany, who tried to go to the floor to help his auburn haired friend, but wasn't able to due to the fact that Oman and Burma had grabbed Germany tight by the arms. Germany couldn't move. He was one of the toughest people he knew. One of the strongest in all of Europe…but these men weren't from Europe, he remembered.

"Let…Germany..." but Italy couldn't say anything, due to another swift kick, this time to the chest, knocking him unconscious.

"Italien!" screamed Germany again, trying desperately to get out of Oman and Burma's hold.

"No going anywhere, Germany. We're going to teach you fags a lesson, and maybe you can become sane and loose that sickness of yours once and for all." Germany's eyes widened.

'_You're very sick, Germany. You only have two options to cure this sickness."_

'_What are they mein Fuhrer? I'll do anything!'_

'_I can send you to a death camp, have you executed. Or, you can trust me and help you be cured.'_

'_Help me then! I don't want to die, Fuhrer! Save me!'_

'_Ja. I will. Now get off the ground and stop groveling, it just makes you appear even more sickly.'_

"It is not a sickness…" mumbled Germany in a low voice.

"Speak up, dude. I can't hear you over your fogginess," scoffed America.

"I'm not sick! None of us are! Not I, not Italy, or Spain, or Romano, or even your own brother! The only sick one here is you!" Spat Germany at America, desperately trying to break free so he could beat up he man standing in front of him.

"Germany, Germany, Germany…I'm the only sane one here. I'm trying to help you all, I'm doing you all a favor…you can't live with this sickness….you're going to infect everyone, and soon the whole world will just be a great big pile of fags. You understand. You did the same thing to Jews and people who went against you…except this time, I'm right."

"America-san. Please calm down, what you're doing isn't right," begged Japan calmly.

"I agree with Japan on this; America you're taking this way too far!" exclaimed England.

"Aiyah! Will you two shut up! America is trying to help your friends, but you seem to be too blind to realize that, aru!" scolded China. England and Japan became silent again.

Germany and Italy were dragged into the meeting room, and America closed the door behind them.

"Now that we've got some…_volunteers,_ we can get to work!" said America, very excieted.

"Get to work on what, America?" asked England, becoming very suspicious of what events were about to unfold.

"You'll see, England." Said America, darkly.

"No, you bastard. You're going to tell me now, or I'm leaving." The twins Trinidad and Tobago stood behind England, and held him down.

"You aren't leaving." They said in unison.

"You bloody bastard! You've gone mad!" shouted England.

"I agree with England-san." Said Japan, still very calm.

"Will you two shut up! I'm right, and their wrong. If you disagree with me, then by default, you're siding with _them!_ People who side with homo's are just as bad as homo's themselves! Now shut you're gob and watch." By now, Japan was also being held down like England was, but by Syria.

"Alright, Saudi Arabia, tell us your plan." Said America, who then sat down at a chair at the head of the table. Saudi nodded to America and began talking, his accent being very pronounced.

"You see, America. Unlike in your country here, in Saudi Arabia, we do not have a right to privacy, which is one way we save our country from the homosexuals. Our government searches homes without any paper work like you have, and this is one way we keep our nation very safe. We also search vehicles, places of business, and even communications. Because of this, our country has become very safe, because we catch all the bad guys, and the bad guys are too afraid to do anything. You see? Very smart.

"Our And unlike you, our constitution is the Qur'an. So we follow God's word, not what the people say. So, when we find any one commiting homosexual activities they are either imprisoned, or killed; so long as they are adults." Saudi Arabia went on and on explaining what his country does to keep 'peace' and to stop the spread of homosexuality.

"So today, I would like to try to deliver these men from their demons."

"Demons?" asked Germany, he had gotten very lost trying to follow what Saudi was saying.

"Yes. You aren't ill…well, not like a cold or anything. You have demons inside of you. Possessing you with homosexual beliefs. That is what you are ill of. Allah can heal you. Seeing as America doesn't want you dead, we're not allowed to kill you…but with the help of Allah, you will be saved."

Saudi began walking towards Germany, arms extended and palms facing him. All the other Islamic nations knelt down and began preying as well. Saudi began shouting words that one could guess were along the lines of 'get out demon' and all those other things.

Germany sat there on his knees in disbelief. _Really? An exorcism? They don't work, I've had over two hundred…God doesn't care that I'm gay! Sheesh!_ He said to himself, chuckling slightly, but not loud enough for anyone to hear over Saudi's screaming and shouting.

Germany just sat there, unable to do anything, but completely ignoring the prayers that were all for him to be cured of his 'sickness'. But soon after the exorcism of sorts began, Italy had woken up, his face pale and his eyes blood shot. He tried to sit up, but failed and fell to the ground when Oman kicked him down. His foot rested on Italy's rib cage, keeping him to the floor and making Italy unable to move.

Germany looked over at his friend, and saw that Italy was looking at him too, tears in his beautiful eyes.

As if telepathically, Germany knew what Italy was thinking. He wasn't in much pain, or at least he had gotten used to it and pushed it to the back of his mind, but he was just thinking how sad this was. He was sad for Germany, he was sad for the idiocy of the other nations, but most of all he was sad for God. Italy slowly closed his eyes, clasped his hands together, and began to pray.

"See dude! Even your own boyfriend is praying for your demons to be gone! Ha!" laughed America maniacally, who was also praying. Germany just stayed where he was, taking the verbal hits like the man he was. He knew Italy wasn't praying for Germany to be 'un-gay-ed' but was praying that God would do something about this horrible punishment these nations were inflicting upon his best friend. While Italy was praying, Germany looked up at the table and saw that England and Japan were looking at the situation in disgust, but unable to move or help due to the fact that they were still being held down into their chairs.

By now, Germany wasn't just annoyed, but was completely ticked off (and slightly amused). He had given up on trying to move, the hands keeping him down were strong, and he had given up on saying anything, because the praying was now being shouted. So again, Germany looked to the Italian laying next to him. A foot still placed on his chest, and hands still clasped together in prayer. Then, his eyes opened; not wide, only open enough to the point they were like slits. It was a look that Germany never expected to see on the man he cherished…but he had seen so many new personalities and expressions on his friend, that he wasn't that shocked anymore. Germany gave Italy a confused look, and Italy just smiled. Separating his hands from praying, he grabbed the leg of the man who's foot was on his chest. Somehow, Italy managed to twist them leg, and kick the man off of him onto the ground, where Italy proceeded to punch him in the face, knocking him out. Swiftly, Italy began to fight off the men holding Germany down. A front kick to the face of Burma, and a side kick to Oman. Grabbing their heads, the smashed their skulls together, and they fell down within a second. Italy rushed over to the table and jumped on it, kicking the people holding Japan and England down. He flipped off the table and landed on Trinidad and Tobago and punching the in the side of the head.

Kuwait came at Italy from behind and wrapped his arms around him, holding Italy still, but Italy threw his head backwards and hit Kuwait's nose, breaking it.

Tanzania, Botswana, and Gambia all ran at Italy, ready to attack, throwing punches and kicks and grabbing at him. Italy dodged each attack, throwing back punches and kicks that were twice as strong.

Iran came at Italy from behind, and Italy flipped him right onto the ground. Italy straddled him and lifted his shoulders off the ground, then proceeded to slam him back onto the ground. Algeria, Lybia, Bhutan, Cameroon, and Dominica all jumped on Italy, knocking him to the ground, they held him down and started beating him up, punching him in the face, giving him a nose bleed, and breaking his arm and pulling out weapons like small knives.

Italy spat in Dominica's eye, who was holding down Italy's un broken arm. He gabbed Dominica's collar and threw him at Cameroon causing the two to both call over. Italy sat up and grabbed the blade Algeria was holding, causing Italy to deeply cut his hand, pulled the blade from Algeria's grasp and slashed at Algeria's arm, slashing deeply into the flesh, causing him to back away. Throwing a back hand at Libya, and biting Bhutan's shoulder, the two backed off.

Italy flipped back onto the table to have the high ground, he began kicking all the other nations in the face. Italy grabbed a chair and threw it on Yemen, causing it to break, leaving Italy holding a long, broken, leg of the chair. Like a sword, Italy began gracefully slashing and jabbing his attackers.

Barbados grabbed at Italy's arm and Italy jerked away, his sleeve ripping off.

"That. Was. GUCCI!" He roared. Italy stomped his heel onto Barbados' foot, elbowed him in the lungs, threw the back of his fist up to his nose, and then down to the groin in four fluid movements.

Italy kept this up until only America, Russia, and China were left.

"Aiyah! What are you doing Italy!" asked China, who was being cornered by Italy when he tried to run out of the room.

"What am I doing? Ve? What a good question," Italy asked happily. He grabbed China by the shirt and lifted him off the ground, feet dangling. China grabbed at Italy's hands, trying to make Italy let go. Pushing on a pressure point on Italy's hand, the one between the thumb and fingers, China made Italy let go.

Gracefully, China landed on his feet and crouched in what Italy recognized as a position from ancient Kung Fu.

China lifted his leg up slowly and within a blink of an eye, had kicked Italy in the side. Italy grabbed China's foot and flipped him in the air, grabbed China and body slammed him onto the ground. Italy took the knife he had taken, and stuck it into China's belt and into the ground, making him unable to move.

"You beat up China? I kill you, Da?" said Russia, cheerfully. Italy turned around and ran at Russia. The giant grabbed Italy.

"Got you, now become one with Russia, Da?" asked Russia.

"Ve…" sighed Italy. Still being held by Russia, he changed his position so he was upside down, but it was too fast for anyone to realize how he had done it. Locking his legs around the Russian's thick neck, he flipped the Russian onto the ground to join his Chinese companion.

"That hurt, Italy. Aren't you going to apologize?" he whined, his childlike expression still on his face.

"Hell no."

"Too bad, if you did I wouldn't do this." Russia threw his arms behind him, and flung himself off of the ground. Reaching a hand into his large, flowing jacket, he pulled out a water pipe. Smiling evilly, he swung it right at Italy, who blocked it with his broken arm.

Italy fell to the ground in pain.

"Italien!" shouted Germany, finally coming to his sense. The events that just took place were to unrealistic for his brain to even bothered processing. He stood up and ran over to Italy who was on the other side of the room. He slid a hand under Italy's back and lifted him up, being mindful of the horribly broken bones in his right arm.

"Are you alright! Of course you're not, never mind…" he said frantically. Italy just chuckled.

"Ve…Germany.."

"Ja?"

"Duck!" Like it was instinctive, he did just that. Because of Italy's warning his head was still on his shoulders, instead of rolling on the ground like Russia and his water pipe intended it to be. Italy jumped to his feet and quickly kicked the water pipe out of Russia's hand, which surprised everyone who was still conscious in the room.

Italy knocked Russia onto the floor and he jumped on top of him, his elbow digging into the man's sternum. Taking advantage of Russia not being able to breath, he grabbed Russia's pipe and hit him in the head. Hard. After Russia was out cold, Italy walked over to America, who was still sitting in his seat with a look of utter horror.

"Ho…how! You are weak! You can't do that! You're the useless Italy! Even more than your stupid brother! How! Your just a…"

"A stupid, weak, useless, gay, fag?" Italy finished for America.

"Yeah…I've been told that…I'll admit to the gay part….but stupid and weak?" Italy stood right next to America and sat down right on America's arm rest.

"Not so much." Italy brought his arm back ready to punch America square in the face.

"The only useless one here is you. You're not even worth it." Italy lowered his hand and walked away.

Walking to Germany, he grabbed his hand and the two walked to the door to leave. Before exiting, Italy stopped and looked back into the room.

"Are you too coming?" he asked England and Japan. Almost simultamiously, the two nations stood up from their chairs and walked away.

"You've got to be kidding me! England…Japan! Come back! You can't leave me!" shouted America, tears almost welling up in his eyes. _Almost_. Crying was something _too gay_ for him to do.

"Just watch, America." Said England.

And just like that, England, Japan, German, and the wounded Italy all left the room, leaving America stranded with a group of unconscious people scattered everywhere.

"Fine…" said America quietly, shedding a single tear, but stopping himself before he could be called a sissy for crying.

"Do what you want…." He knew he was talking to himself, but he didn't care, he could act like a crazy person for all he cared. Two of his best friends just left him, his brother had left him, his whole world felt like it was being turned upside down.

"But those fags are going down."

XxXxXxX

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Oooooww!" cried Italy, holding his arm.

"Italy-San, let me get a look at that." Said Japan, holding an arm out. Italy and Japan sat on a bench while Germany and England stood up, very concerned about Italy's condition.

"This is quite horrible, Italy-san, we need to get you to the hospital." Stated Japan, pointing out the fact that he had several bones sticking out of his skin, his shoulder was dislocated, and almost all of his fingers were broken too.

"Ve! No! Noo! I hate hospitals! And needles….and the food is even worse than Englands!" shouted Italy, trying to squirm out of Japan's grasp, but only managing to cause himself more pain.

"Italien! You are going to the hospital weather you want to or not! You're arm could stay that way for ever if you don't get it fixed, it could become infected, and then you could die!" said Germany, panicking. No one had ever seen Germany so frantic. Italy sat there silent, looking up at his friend, then sighed 'alright' and stood up.

Italy tried to reach for his phone but couldn't do it with his left hand, which was also very bruised and probably broken as well.

"Ve…Germany, would you mind getting out my phone for me? I can't get it." Asked Italy with puppy dog eyes. How could Germany say no? Not that he was going to anyways…

"Ja…sure. Where is it?" the answer was Italy sticking his butt out slightly.

"Left hand pocket." Obviously Italy was way too innocent minded to even think of that in any other way than just getting a phone out…of course. Germany blushed. Of course. A day full of woe and he gets to go into Italy's butt pocket. Either God hated him very much, or decided to give him one moment of awkward happiness.

Slowly and very clumsily, Germany reached out a hand and pulled out Italy's phone. Italy told Germany to dial a number and hold the phone to his ear; Germany did so.

"Ciao! Farmi un taxi all'ospedale piu vicino per favore. (Get me a taxi to the nearest hospital please). Grazi! Ciao!" and just like that, a taxi pulled up from around the corner.

XxXxXxX

*at the hospital*

"Alright, not to be the bearer of obvious news, but your arms are broken. So we're going to have to set them, and do some pretty heavy duty surgery. We just need to have you sign some paper work Mr. Vargas." The doctor handed Italy a folder with several pieces of paper that Italy hurriedly began scribbling his signature on.

"Umm…aren't you going to read it? I mean…the whole part about 'you might die' thing? Kinda' makes people read what their signing." Italy and the others laughed.

"Ve…Like _that's _going to happen." He shared a look with his friends. They were all thinking the same thing. _They were nations, death? Not likely._

"Alright then…I'll come back in about an hour for pre-op. See you then Mr. Vargas." The doctor left the room and Italy and the others were finally able to discuss what had just happened.

"So…was all that crazy fighting stuff…like what you're brother did? Going all Mafia on them?" asked England. Italy just laughed.

"Ve, of course not. I am the co-head along with my brother, yes; but he is the only one who goes Mafia…I prefer the weapons aspect of it, where Romano prefers his fists." Explained Italy.

"So…if that wasn't mafia…what was it Italy-san?" asked Japan.

"You all seem to forget. I _was_ raised by my Grandpa Rome." He said, as if that explained everything. Everyone still looked confused. To make it easier, Italy decided to just say it.

"Romano may go Mafia…but I go Gladiator."

* * *

gah. too. long. to. write.

I'm going to try to write longer, more in depth chapters, so there is only going to be prolly 1 or 2 a day, max. But please keep reading none the less!

Stay tuned and please review!

Much love 3


	9. prayer

I apologize for the horrid horrible-ness of this chapter. It is mainly a filler...so ..yeah...

Anywho...I was just so distracted today and I couldn't think of any good chapter-line to follow so it's kinda all .. messy and scrambly...n' junk.

Enjoy it or not...it is kinda just a fluff chapter...mostly.

sorry for it taking so long! X(

warning: crappy chapter may cause

1) your eyes to start bleeding

2) loss of your eyes...(example: them exploding)

3) vomiting

4) seizure

5) heart attack

6) all of the above

7) all of the above simultaneously.

...you have been warned. :(

* * *

"Wow, Chap…I guess everyone has their own little secret skills…even you!" joked England. Germany glared at him.

"Calm down, I was just teasing." England said defensively, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Ve, it's alright, Germany. I thought it was funny. I guess it is pretty surprising that I could kill you all right here right now…even with a broken arm!" Italy broke out laughing at his own joke, but the others just looked at each other in horror, realizing that yes…Italy _could _kill them.

_Better not get on his bad side, anymore then…_ Thought England.

"So, Italy-San," began Japan.

"Japan, I think we've been friends long enough, so you can drop the formalities, ve." Suggested Italy, hopefully. Japan blushed. Even his closest friends…well his brothers and sisters, he used honorifics…he'd never been asked _not _to use them. He was incredibly happy.

"How about, 'kun'? It's just a habit I think I won't be able to break anytime soon, Italy-san."

"That's fine. Ve, now what were you saying?" asked Italy.

"Oh, hai. Well, I was just wondering if you are so strong, why you didn't use any of that strength and courage during world war two." The island nation asked solemnly, tapping his index fingers together awkwardly.

"Ve. Easy. I only fight for what I believe in with all my heart. I believe that what America is doing is wrong; I believe that with ever y fiber of my being.

The conversation continued between the four of them for a while, until the doctor came back.

"Alright, we're going to take Mr. Vargas to pre-op. Ready to go, Mr. Vargas?"

"VE! No! Save me Germany!" yelled Italy, reaching for his blue eyed companion.

"_Germany?_" asked the doctor. The room was silent.

"I mean….Ludwig! SAVE ME LUDWIG!" yelled Italy again.

"Ita…Feliciano…It's just surgery, you're going to be fine. I'm not saving you from something that is going to heal you!" explained Germany.

"Ve…I know…I really only said it out of habit." The two laughed, leaving the doctor extremely confused.

"Alright, the nurses are going to take you now, Mr. Vargas." Said the Doctor, ignoring the two men, and getting straight to the point.

"Can Ludwig come with me?" asked Italy, clinging to Germany's arm as best he could. Germany gave a look to the doctor saying he wanted to stay with Italy as well. No such luck.

"I'm sorry. You have to stay behind. Actually, it's after visiting hours, so you all have to leave, unless you're his family."

"Vee! Luddy is family! He's family, si! He can stay!" Italy said, frantically, not letting go of Germany. It was strange how tight his grip was, considering the fact his arms and hands were severely broken.

"How is he your family?" questioned the doctor. He didn't mind them staying, they seemed to be good people, it was just protocol and he had to follow the rules.

"I'm…I am…He's my…" stuttered Germany, desperately trying to think of a way for them to be related. Siblings? Maybe adopted…but that would be too weird for him to say they were siblings. Cousins? Okay…that's more believable…and slightly accurate…historically. _Rome did have parts of Germania... and Germania is my vati… _Nope…still too weird. Before Germany could think of an answer, Japan answered for him.

"Ludwig-san and Feliciano-kun are married, Doctor." Japan said, calmly. The doctor nodded, understanding.

"Nice! You seem 'kinda confused. Let me guess…it's recent right? Still not used to being married yet?" The doctor smiled at Italy and Germany; who then looked at each other.

"Si! Sure!"

"That's what I thought. When my dad's got married it took them a while to get used to it too…I understand why you were fumbling with your words there Mr. Beilschmidt. It took my parents about a year to decide what to call each other. They just agreed on husbands." The doctor smiled again at the two men.

"Alright, you can stay; the other two have to leave though, unless you're also family."

"Ummm…Yes. You see, I am Ludwig's cousin." explained England. Which again, wasn't entirely false…pretty much all European countries were cousins some way or another. The doctor nodded and agreed for England to stay.

"What about you?" The doctor asked, pointing at Japan.

"Me? Oh, hai. I am, Feliciano-Kun's….step brother." He said, slowly and awkwardly. England gave him a look. _Step brother? Really?_ On the inside, they were all laughing like crazy.

"Kind of a motley family you've got here Mr. Vargas. German and Italian spouses, with Japanese step brother and English cousin. Definitely _not_ suspicious." The doctor winked, and the nurses came and took Italy and wheeled him away in his bed. Well, they tried. It was rather difficult with him clinging to his _husband_ the whole time. Eventually they managed to separate Italy from Germany (Germany made no effort to let his fake spouse go).

Finally, Italy was being wheeled down the hallway, while he was waving his broken arm slowly and shouting things in Italian. The only part they could hear and understand was the last part. "Ti amo!"

XxXxXxX

Germany sat impatiently in Italy's patient room. The surgery wasn't supposed to take too long, only about two hours. It had been three. Usually, Germany would have demanded to know what was taking so long, but he was too nervous to even move.

"Germany-san. It's okay. Sometimes bone placement takes longer than expected; and Italy has fairly frail bones so they have to be extra careful." Japan rested a friendly hand on Germany's shoulder, trying to be of comfort.

"Ja…I know…but, but what if something happened. Like, maybe they cut a blood vessel and he's bleeding out! That could put him in a coma for months! Or what if they do an operation meant for some other patient, and he ends up getting his kidneys taken out, or something! They could ki…"

"Kill him?" said England. "Listen, chap. He's a country, a normal human would have passed out from those wounds, you hear me? Your husband will be fine," soothed England, patting Germany on the head and ruffling his already messy hair. Right as England and Japan had calmed the panicked German down, a doctor came in.

"Yes, doctor?" said England, who stood up and walked over to the woman in the green scrubs.

"You all might want to sit down." She began. Germany's eyes opened wide in horror.

"WAS GESCHAH!" shouted Germany frantically, bolting up from his chair and rushing over to the doctor. A look of horror across his face.

"Ummm..what did he say?" she asked.

"He asked 'what happened' in German. Apparently he forgets English when he's worried." Said England calmly.

"Oh, alright. Well please, umm… Mr. Beilschmidt, sit down." Germany sat down reluctantly, and stared at the doctor, waiting for her to tell him the news.

"Okay. Now Mr. Vargas didn't want us to say anything in front of you all, so as doctors we kept our word, but he said if anything bad happened, to let you all know. So I am." She explained.

"Well, what happened then, doctor?" asked Japan, who was starting to go pale from worry.

"You see, Mr. Vargas…"

"Just call him Feliciano." Said England. "He likes to be called by his first name."

"Oh. Well Feliciano told us when we took him to x-ray, that he had some severe stomach pain, and that if we wouldn't mind taking a look at it. So we did, just to make sure. We did the basic examination, but he couldn't stand having his abdomen pressed on at all. We decided a scope would rule out what we thought it was…but it turns out, it was exactly what we hopped it wasn't."

"Get on with it!" shouted England, who was starting to get frustrated.

"Well, Feliciano…has extremely bad internal bleeding. He explained to us that it must have been from the fight he was just in. It is a miracle he isn't dead. We had several operations occurring at once on him. His arms are doing quite fine, along with his hands…but we're having difficulty stopping the bleeding. Some way or another, he is managing to keep his blood circulating and keeping him alive, which is impossible…but he's quite a strange case. Anyways, I was just told I needed to tell you all about his situation. I'll come back as soon as I get any more information." And just like that, the female doctor left the room. And just like that Germany began to cry.

He didn't know he was doing it at first. He only realized when he felt the tears fall down his cheeks. Hurriedly he wiped them away, but they seemed to keep coming, despite how much he tried to hold them back. He had known something was wrong. He didn't know how he knew, he just knew. He should have asked Italy, he should have done more…

"Germany-san. He'll be fine. You heard the doctor; his blood is still circulating, probably because he is a country. So you have nothing to be sad about. He's going to be alright." Encouraged Japan, trying to keep his German friend's spirits up. Germany stayed there silent for a moment.

"I'm…I'm going to walk around for a while…If the doctor comes back, call me," and just like that, Germany left.

He knew exactly where he was going. They had passed it on the way up to Italy's patient room. He wasn't all too sure why he was going there yet, but he felt like it was where he needed to be. Not for him, but for Italy. His feet pulled him down the long halls, turning left and right down corridors and climbing down stairs. Finally, on the first level, he passed the cafeteria, and turned down the next hallway. Right there, doors open, waiting for him to enter.

He paused for a moment, and then stepped into the chapel. It was fairly nice. Alright, more than that, it was beautiful. Stain glass windows, an alter, all the things a church needed. Germany hadn't been to church in a long time. Sure, he had been inside them for fun when on vacation and traveling, because he loved the historical aspect of them, the architecture, and the warm secure feeling they gave off; but now Germany wasn't here to admire those things. He was here to pray. He walked down the aisle and sat down in the first row of pews. Slowly, he clasped his hands together, just as Italy had before he went…well, before he went 'all gladiator' as he said, and started knocking everyone out. Germany looked down at his hands, then closed his eyes.

"Ummm…hi." He said out loud. "It's me…Germany. I know this isn't how you're supposed to pray…but I don't really know the proper way…I'll have to ask Italy….anyways…Well…" Germany couldn't think of what to say, his mind blanked.

_I can't think of anything…the words just won't come out. Think. Think. THINK! _

*flashback*

_Germany walked towards his and Italy's tent, the blood covered snow crunching underneath each foot step. _

"_Italien, I'm coming in!" Germany had expected his friend to be sleeping, or eating, or both even…but to his surprise, Italy was still in uniform, on his knees, head bowed and facing away from Germany. _

"_Ve… __Credo in Deum Patrem omnipotentem, Creatorem caeli et terrae. Et in Iesum Christum, Filium eius unicum, Dominum nostrum, qui conceptus est de Spiritu Sancto, natus ex Maria Virgine, passus sub Pontio Pilato, crucifixus, mortuus, et sepultus, descendit ad infernos, tertia die resurrexit a mortuis, ascendit ad caelos, sedet ad dexteram Dei Patris omnipotentis, inde venturus est iudicare vivos et mortuos. Credo in Spiritum Sanctum, sanctam Ecclesiam catholicam, sanctorum communionem, remissionem peccatorum, carnis resurrectionem, vitam aeternam. Amen.(Apostles creed)" Germany had no clue what Italy had just said, it was all in Latin. He did realize though, that his friend was crying while saying these words. Not moving, Germany just stood there and waited to see what his friend would do next._

"_I'm sorry for what I've done father. I'm horrible…I can't believe that I've done these things…I just pray that these men I have murdered will be forgiven…and that I will be forgiven as well, though I do not deserve such a thing…." Italy continued doing what he was doing, which Germany realized was praying? For some reason or another, Germany was extremely moved. And for some other reason, he walked to Italy, and knelt down next to him, and put his hands together in prayer as well, and just listened to Italy._

_*end flashback*_

"Well, God…you see, Italy is horribly injured…I can't stand it. Maybe you _are _punishing us, be it for war, or for being gay or for anything...but you just need to make sure Italy stays okay. He's tough…somehow…so I know he'll come through…but Italy loves you very much…and he needs you with him on this. Just…help him, please. Do whatever it is that you do apparently. Just don't let him die…Let him be okay." Tears were again, running from his eyes. He could not remember a time when he had been more emotional. He felt very pathetic, but at the same time he felt strangely happy, though he couldn't figure out why. Slowly, he stood up, wiped his face clean of tears, and walked back up the aisle. Before exiting the door, he turned to the chapel and stared at the beautiful stain glass window. Thinking for a moment, he remembered what Italy said at the end of each prayer.

"Amen." He said quietly. Then he left the room, and headed back to his _husband_.

* * *

The dreadfullness of this chapter...oh my word...you're eyes must be bleeding from it's horribleness... sorry but I can't pay for your hospital bills. :(

please review...so long as you don't tell me how badly this chapter has wounded your body.


	10. Bleeding

And now, an awesome speech from Yanelle :

_**a true fangirl would not die of anything anime or manga-related... since a**_  
_**fangirl is strong, even with all odds against us, we succeed... even with the**_  
_**successive nosebleeds and squealing from watching/hearing and reading our**_  
_**favorites, we do not die, nor go blind nor deaf nor mute... we end up getting**_  
_**stronger, more immune to epistaxis(nosebleeds) and we become stronger**_  
_**(physically and maybe mentally) than what we seem to be...**_

_**a true fangirl stands up to what she believes in, but at the same time,**_  
_**respects the beliefs of others, she does not, in any way, step on the ideals**_  
_**of others, she takes everything into consideration, taking on facts and adding**_  
_**some of her ideals with it to create her own representation...**_

Sorry for using it without permission! *begs for forgiveness* It was too awesome to pass up sharing it with others!

Alright, please enjoy this chapter!

I'm really sleepy so I didn't do a spell/grammar/over all suckyness review, so be warned, and please don't be like...oh you didn't say 'you're' or 'spelled this wrong...etc.

Enjoy!

* * *

Germany followed his path he took to get to the chapel, and landed back where he started. Italy's patient room. Japan was sleeping on a blanket on the ground, his jacket being used as a blanket. England was sleep sitting, legs crossed, and head resting backwards against the wall. Germany looked up at the clock wall and saw that he had been gone for three hours.

_That's not even possible!_ He shouted in his head. It felt like he had only been gone a minute, but his perception of time seemed to be very messed up lately.

"?" asked the doctor who took Italy to pre-op and was doing his surgery. He knocked on the wall and entered before Germany had the chance to react.

"Hallo, Doctor. Where is Ita…Feliciano?"

"Alright, before I tell you how your 'husband' is, I'm going to tell you something else."

"…ja. Alright." Said Germany, slowly.

"Well…you don't have to use your human names." Said the doctor, who smiled up at Germany.

"Umm…what? What do you mean?" asked Germany awkwardly. "Human names? Hehe…" Germany was avoiding the man's eyes. How could he know about human names? Well...he has a human name..but it's his _only_ name.

"Don't play dumb, Germany. I used to be America's doctor." He explained.

"Oh…well…then…umm…" stuttered Germany, trying to form the right words. They didn't come. But somehow the doctor knew what he was thinking…must be a doctor thing to know how to read their patients.

"I used to be America's doctor. So I know about people being nations. Sadly, American fired me, because he found out I have two fathers and he thought that I would be gay too. When he found out, he just…poof…stood up and left, and I got a call from his boss saying that I was fired." He began.

"Oh…well…then…ummm….." again, Germany still couldn't find the words…at all.

"Haha…so I understand that you and Italy aren't husbands, are you?" asked the Doctor.

"Umm..No. Sorry, we lied. England isn't our cousin and Japan isn't our step brother either." Germany laughed. The doctor joined him.

"No…I figured as much; but if you're willing to fake being family members, I'll just let you all stay."

"Umm…thank you?" said Germany. He was extremely confused. If this doctor had found they were countries…he would be able to help Italy…yes? Again, as if reading his mind, the doctor spoke again.

"So because I know your countries, I've figured out how to help your _husband_. But he was injured very badly…and I can guess how…was it … was it America, Germany?" he asked, a very concerned look on his face.

"I love my country…but I would know those wounds anywhere…"

"Umm..ja..indirectly. America didn't physically touch Italy…but America did organize the fight…I guess you could say."

"If you don't mind me asking…did America do it…because…well…he found out you're gay?" The doctor asked awkwardly. Pretty much this whole conversation was ten pounds of awkwardness in a five pound bag. Germany nodded.

"Ja. He's gone crazy! I've never seen him this crazy! Not even during world war two…not during the cold war…It's insane." Said Germany, putting his head in his hands in shame.

"If you don't mind could you please tell me what happened…as you already know, you have to be a certified physiatrist to be even considered to be a nation's doctor…so I already knew America had some problems…but do you think you could tell me how much he's changed…if at all. I've always known he was…well, messed up in the head." Germany complied.

"Well…at a world meeting he just went nuts…complaining about fags and homo's. It was ridiculous. So, Sweden got mad and left, then Finland, and then everyone else who had legalized gay marriage started leaving…then Romano…umm South Italy left, because of Spain….then Italy…then I left…a few hours ago, Japan and England left America as well…after the fight."

"The fight?"

"Ja….America had...taken me and Italy captive I guess you could say…." Germany finished explaining all the events that had taken place in the past few days. How good it felt to finally tell someone what had happened…someone who wasn't there…

"Wow…looks like it's gotten worse." Sighed the doctor.

"What? What's gotten worse?" asked Germany.

"I'm sorry…I really can't tell you. I wish I could, so that maybe all of this would make sense…but I honestly can't. Maybe you'll find out soon enough…" the doctor said. His face explained it all. Doctor/Patient confidentiality. Germany understood.

"It's alright," Germany sighed. "I understand…but please tell me about Italy now." Germany was trying to change the subject, and he wanted to know what was happening with his friend.

"Well. That's the not so awesome part…you see…it seems that Italy's body is different from other nations and humans…you see, I've also been a sub-doctor for Canada when he came over, and sometimes Mexico…so I know that nation's have a normal human body…but it just reacts and acts differently," The doctor held out to Germany a folder which he opened, filled with x-rays and pictures from the scopes and all the information they had taken on taken on Italy.

"I don't understand medical things doctor. This just looks like a whole bunch of well…organs and bones."

"Well, look here…I don't know if it has ever affected him before in his past…I'm not his doctor obviously…but you see…all of these organs here, are covered in scar tissue." He said, pointing at Italy's abdominal organs.

"umm…I don't know what that means…" said Germany, starting to fidget…he knew it couldn't mean anything good.

"Well you see…this is just a guess…I'll have to ask his doctor… anyways…this happens to many people…I've never seen it to this extent though…for example, there is a disease called Celiac disease, where the body can't digest wheat and it in a way..rips the lining of the intestine off, leaving those little scale looking things, which are scars." He said, pointing at these bubble ish scale formations spread across Italy's organs.

"Alright….so…what does that mean for Italy?" asked Germany.

"Well…it could explain why he can't stop bleeding. You see…you know when you get a scab and it comes off and you start bleeding? Well that is Italy, everywhere on the inside. So it seemed that he got knifed in the stomach in that fight…"

"WHAT! He didn't say anything!"

"He's very good at hiding his pain apparently. Anyways… so what happened was he started bleeding even more, then when trying to stop the bleeding, he started bleeding everywhere else…picture geysers. One explodes, the others follow, that sort of deal." Germany's face became as white as a sheet. Italy can't die…as long as his people are there, he is here. He won't die…but what could happen?

"So, as I'm sure you know, he won't die. But it is very likely that if his organs don't heal soon, he'll be in a coma." Explained the doctor.

"So where is he now? Let me see him!" demanded Germany, his loud voice causing his sleeping cousin and step brother to stir, but not wake.

"Yes. I'll take you to see him. He…don't be surprised when you see him," said the doctor, sadly. The two left the room, Germany following America's ex-doctor. When they turned down a hallway and then entered a room.

"Alright, you have to put this on." Said the doctor, handing Germany a biohazard suit.

"Um…why? What's so wrong with him?" he said, taking the suit cautiously in one hand.

"You see…I think that because of his case, he's more prone to getting sick, especially in his condition…"

"Condition?"

"You'll see." The doctor opened two doors after Germany and he were in their suits. Inside the quarantine like room were several nurses and doctors running around, and right in the middle of the chaos, was Italy laying on a bed, medical equipment all around and attached to him. Germany stepped towards Italy, and rested a glove covered hand on Italy's cast covered arms.

"Ve?" slowly, a pair of light, vibrant, amber eyes opened and gazed at Germany.

"Germany? C…ciao…hey? You think you can get me some past…pasta?" he said slowly and quietly.

"I'm feeling very…..hungry."

"No…sorry Feliciano, but you're not allowed any food…You know that." Explained one of the nurses. Germany looked towards her, but she seemed to be blocked by some kind of box like object that was surrounding Italy from his shoulders down.

"What is that?" Asked Germany, who leaned forwards to see.

"NO!" shouted Italy, who began coughing…but his warning came too soon, Germany had seen.

They were still operating on Italy. His whole abdomen was open showing off the pink organs and the bright red blood spilling out and covering everything it could reach.

"Italien…" sighed Germany sadly. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"Ve? Y…You…never…ask…ed." And just like that, Italy was coughing up blood.

"Italien! Calm down. It's alright." He tried calming down Italy.

"Oh…alright. S…orry." He said, blood still pouring out the sides of his mouth. Germany looked at his friend sympathetically.

"Shh…Germania…Sto bene…saro piu molto presto.(I'm fine, I'll feel better soon.) But …you know what would… make me feel better?" Germany grabbed tighter onto Italy's cast…even though he couldn't feel it.

"What? I'll do anything." He said. Italy smiled and lifted his hand and rested his bandaged fingers on Germany's glove.

"I ….ve. I wanted. To do this…more formally…but I guess…I won't …get the chance…any time soon."

"Italien…don't say that. You'll be back on your feet eating pasta tomorrow at the latest. And you can sing and paint and I'll late you make pasta all the time, and I'll eat it and I won't complain that it has too much starch and you won't have to do training…" Germany started tearing up. _Stop crying you wuss! Italien won't like seeing you crying! Man up!_ He thought to himself.

"Germania…calm down. I…wanted…to ask you…if you…would be…my boyfriend." Italy smiled at Germany.

"Because…I…love you…so much….ti…amo." he confessed. Germany smiled back.

"Ja, I know. Ich libe dich. I will." Said Germany happily.

"yaaaay….veee…..I'm…really…happy," but then he started coughing up more blood.

"Heeey!" Italy shouted…well shouted as loud as he could…which was only just above a whisper. He glared at one of the doctors.

"My…intestine...doesn't…go…there!" he scolded.

"Wait…you can feel all of this, Italien?" Germany asked, even more concerned.

"Yes. He can…he insisted that we didn't use anesthesia for some reason…he wanted to be fully alert when he saw you." He laughed. "he's a weird one."

"Yeah…I know." Germany chuckled, looking back at his friend…no. His boyfriend.

"Alright, well we need you to leave now…" said the nurse. "now that he's seen you we're putting him under to get some real work done.

"Ve! No! I…want…Germany…to…stay." Complained Italy.

"Please, doctor. I'll stay in the corner…I won't move at all…I'll be quiet and won't move…just let me stay with Italy." Begged Germany. The doctor stood there considering the options…finally he gave in.

"Alright. We'll bring you a cot." He sighed. "I'll be back." He left the room with a nurse, smiling while leaving.

"Alright now, ," said a particularly plump nurse, with a horribly annoyed look. "Count backwards from ten." She hovered the anesthesia over Italy's mouth.

"See you…later..Germany..9…8…3…paastaaa." and like that, Italy was put into a deep sleep.

XxXxXxX

"Ivan…I don't think I can stand by America any more, aru." Said China. The Russian nodded his head.

"Da…I mean…I'm not a huge supporter of gay people, I don't think it's normal. But that was just how I was raised by my bosses…I never had the chance to form my own opinion…" Russia sighed.

"Aiyah…my country used to not be ashamed of homosexuals…but now…I don't know what changed…people are still supportive of it…and some people aren't. I used to be fine with it…I guess when my political views and my people changed…so did my own views…but I, not China, but Wang Yao, should have stood by my opinions and defended my people…all of them. Be they straight or gay or whatever, aru," revealed China to Russia, sheepishly. The taller of the two nodded in understanding.

"As much as I hate to say it, Yao…I think we need to leave America. He might be an important political and business partner, da, but he what he's doing is wrong…the longer we stay by him the more out of hand this situation will get." Russia said. It was late at night, but the two nations couldn't sleep. They felt too guilty to even close their eyes.

"So Ivan…I think we should tell America that we're leaving him." Said China, staring at the ground. Again, Russia nodded in agreement.

"How will we do that? He's crazy China…more than me. He might do something," he said in a worried tone.

"Don't worry, aru. It's nothing we can't handle." For a while, the two walked in silence, until China spoke again.

"Umm. Russia? I forgot to say this…but thank you." Said China, embarrassed and rubbing the back of his head. Russia looked confused.

"For what?"

"Well…after Italy made me unable to move…you defended me right?" China asked, hoping he hadn't misinterpreted his friends intentions. Again, Russia remained silent for a while.

"Da. No one messes with my friends…We…are friends, da?" Russia asked, stopping and holding China by the shoulders, looking him dead in the eye.

"Aiyah…I've managed to tolerate you all these Ivan…I even call you by your human name…I'm pretty sure that means I consider you a friend, aru." Chuckled China. Russia beamed at his friend, and embraced him, picking him off of the ground.

"Aiyah! Ivan! Put me down." Scolded China. Russia shook his head.

"No. I don't want to." He complained.

"You're not a child anymore, don't act so immature. Don't get so emotional, you have plenty of friends."

"No I don't…"

"What are you talking about? The Baltics, aru…and the Nordics…aren't they your friends?" asked China; but again, Russia shook his head.

"No…they hate me. You're the only person who has ever called me their friend China…that means the world to me." Russia was now talking only above a whisper. For such a touch, scary, sadistic nation, he was sure emotional. After a touching moment between the two friends, Russia put China down and the two headed back for America's house.

"So what are we going to say to him, aru?" asked China. Russia shrugged, trying to come up with a plan.

"How about you just say how you two are queers as well and have been planning on betraying me…yeah…that sounds like a good place to start." Russia and China wheeled around and stared at America.

"Aiyah! Where did you come from, America!" asked a shocked China.

"I went out to find you, because neither of you were in your rooms…I figured you went for a walk, so I followed you…then I saw you guys…you guys…hugging…" he said awkwardly.

"America…we're not gay." Stated Russia. "China and I are just friends!"

"Whatever…doesn't matter…you're going to leave me whether you're straight or gay…" mumbled America.

"It was only a matter of time…I know you all think I'm crazy. That doesn't matter, because I know I'm not…I know I'm right…and I can win this war without you two!" America had begun raising his voice, causing loud echo's to ripple across the part of town they were standing in.

"America! It's not a war, aru! You seem to be the only one to think that! Please come to your senses!" begged China, who reached a hand out to America's arm. America looked at China's hand in disgust and jolted away from the touch.

"Don't you touch me." With those words, America left. The two friends stood there in shock. The event wasn't as horrible as they figured it would be; but they knew America was tiered, and still in shock from the events of the day. If America had been alert, there is no saying what he might have done to Russia and China. The two stood side by side watching America walk away. Their eyes followed him silently until he turned a corner and was out of sight.

"So, what do you think we should do now?" asked Russia.

"I think we need to go apologize to Italy."

* * *

Yay! China and Russia left! XD

Please review! I love you all so much for reviewing already and always encouraging me and by staying with me since chapter one! XD You guys are awesome!


	11. Forgiven

Alright, everyone needs to check this website out! It's called 'wipe out homophobia" and it is super awesome!

.

This is the longest chapter I have ever written...I know I've said that already...but this time, it's real! XD I hope you all like it!

Please enjoy!

* * *

"Where do you suppose the four of them went aru?" asked China, looking up at his tall Russian companion. Russia thought for a moment and then, as if a light bulb went off in his head, he thought of it.

"They probably left for a hospital, da? Italy's arms were very badly injured, were they not?" he stated, a smile growing on his face.

"And you're happy about that?" asked China, cringing at how his friend was smiling over the fact Italy was broken.

"Hu? Oh! No…I'm happy that I figured out where they went!" he said, fixing China's misconception. China let out an 'ohh' noise, showing he understood.

"So…which one do you think they went to, aru?"

"The closest one, I'm guessing. Knowing Germany, he would want Italy fixed up as soon as possible, da?" The two agreed to head to the nearest hospital from where the fight had taken place, and it didn't take them long to find it. After only fifteen minutes of walking through D.C. they came to the small hospital.

Russia walked up to the front desk which was being managed by a short, red headed nurse in butterfly imprinted scrubs. She was on the phone and gave Russia the 'one minute' sign. Russia did as she asked and waited, impatiently, for the nurse to get off the phone. He began taping his foot, to which China glared at him and gave him a look of, 'be polite or I'll kill you.' But all Russia could do was chuckle at China. Finally the nurse was off the phone.

"What can I do for you two?" she asked.

"Um…we think our friend might be here. Could you tell us if he has checked in or something, and where he is?" asked Russia who was trying to think of the best words to say instead of '_hey, I partook in a fight, and I think that the guy I helped beat up is here. Tell me where he is.'_ The nurse nodded.

"I'll need some sort of I.D. first." Russia and China rummaged through their pockets and pulled out wallets. Russia and China pulled out their passports.

"Wang Yao, and Ivan Braginski? Let me guess…you two are not from here." She said, jokingly.

"Da. We are here for a business meeting, but our colleague got injured badly and we wanted to see how he was doing."

"I'm sorry, sirs; but visiting hours are over. You'll have to come back tomorrow between six and ten pm," explained the nurse.

"Look Ms…" China looked at her I.D. card that hung on a string from her pocket. "Potter…we really need to see our friend, it is quite urgent." China was now begging slightly.

"Alright…what is your friend's name? He might not even be here as you said, but I'll check for you." Russia and China looked at each other. They couldn't remember Italy's human name. For a moment the two stared at each other in horror. After a while, China remembered.

"Oh, his name is Mr. Vargas. First name Feliciano," said China, triumphantly. When China said that name, a doctor and some nurses walked by rolling a cot. The doctor walked right up to Russia and China and looked at them suspiciously.

"What do you guys want with my patient?" he asked, glaring at the two.

"He's our friend, we wanted to see how he was doing," said Russia. It wasn't a lie…alright it was. There was no way in hell that China and Russia were actually friends with Italy…or Germany or England for that matter. The only one here that could be considered a friend was Japan, and that was only because he was China's younger brother.

"Mr. Vargas already has his family up there with him." explained the doctor. "He doesn't need more guests."

"That's not right. Italy's only family is Roma, and he already left for Spain." Russia said, very confused.

"Who are you talking about? Who is this 'Italy'? My patient is Mr. Feliciano Vargas." The doctor said. Russia and China were in a tight spot.

"Aiyah…Italy is just a …nick name that we've given him, because he's Italian," China said nervously. Russia agreed with a small 'da'.

"Oh, alright. That makes sense. You two can come with me to see him then." Said the doctor, and he walked away, indicating the two to come with him. Russia and China scurried to catch up to the doctor. Once they were all out of sight of the front desk, the doctor began talking.

"Alright, what do you guys want with Italy?" asked the doctor in a low voice.

"Italy? Oh, you're calling him his nick name too, da?" Russia chuckled.

"No. I'm calling him by his name; and by the sounds of it, you guys aren't just his friends," said the doctor. Giving in, China spoke first.

"You're right, aru," sighed China.

"Let me guess…you guys are nations as well?" asked the doctor. Not caring about how the man knew they were nations, let alone that there were personifications of nations.

"Da. I am R," but he was cut off by the doctor.

"Russia and China. It's kind of obvious." The three men looked at each other.

"But you see, boys, I was told by a Mr. Germany, that you two took part in beating up Italy," said the doctor. Russia gulped loudly, and began to sweat, unlike China who seemed to be able to keep his cool.

"Sadly, yes, aru. Now we are here to apologize. Russia and I left America because he has gone crazy. We need to apologize for our wrong doings while standing by his side," said China, giving a little bow to the doctor.

"Alright…I feel like I can trust you; but so long as you're not here to beat him up again, I'll let you see him…but he's under right now so you won't be able to talk to him. If you would like, you could stay in an empty room until he wakes up, and we just alert you when that happens." China and Russia agreed and were escorted to their room by a nurse. The doctor put on his hazmat suit again and entered the quarantine like room Italy was in. Germany looked as if he was about to fall asleep sitting in his chair, staring at his new boyfriend.

"Germany," the doctor called as he entered the room. "Here is your bed." The doctor pushed the cot to Germany who caught it, and the doctor put the locks on the wheels so it doesn't run away while Germany was sleeping.

"Alright, pleasant dreams Germany. I'm going to go back to operating on your friend here. Would you like me to alert you with our progress, even when you have fallen asleep?" asked the doctor. Germany nodded, too tired to verbally say yes. Germany sat on the cot and then lay down. It was fairly awkward to sleep with a hazmat suit on, but Germany soon got used to it and dozed off into some much needed sleep. The last thing Germany remembered before falling asleep was listening to the doctor demanding things from the others and scrub nurses.

"Scalpel" "needle" "clamp" etc. Somehow, it was actually quite soothing; as if listening to the doctor's authoritative voice put Germany's mind to ease that his friend would be alright.

The first thing that the German remembered when he woke up was a pair of lipid amber eyes gazing at him, and a broad shining smile grinning at him. It took the German a moment to process what he was seeing. Italy was awake, the scrub nurses and doctors were gone. No one was operating on him. The only things in the room were Germany, and Italy; and the oxygen tank feeding Italy air, and the I.V. fluids rushing into his body. He had several I.V's actually. Some had clear liquid, some had pink-ish colored medicine, and several were bags of blood.

"Ve. Germany! You're awake," whispered the injured Italian excitedly.

"Ja. Are you feeling alright?" Germany asked.

"Si," Italy lifted his hand and lowered his blanket, revealing a long line from his sternum to his pelvis.

"All sewed up." Italy said happily, pointing at his scar. Germany though, didn't smile.

"Ve…what's wrong Germany? I'm all better, so you should be happy!"

"How can I be happy? You could have died."

"I'm a nation, I can't die. You know that."

"No…you could have died…Maybe not really died like humans do, but you could have left me. You might have gone into a coma or some state where you're just a vegetable." Germany told Italy.

"Germany…"

"Italien…why didn't you tell me that you have these issues. I could have helped you, prevented this from happening." Germany said seriously, looking Italy dead in the eye.

"You never asked, Germany."

"Would you stop saying that?" Germany said, raising his voice. He quickly regretted that after he saw the expression on Italy's face.

"But … it's true," whimpered Italy, quietly. "I didn't think you would want me to go rambling on and on about myself, so I never told you things unless you asked me…I thought I would become annoying." Italy gave a weak smile.

"Italien, you don't annoy me. Sure, when I'm trying to get work done, and instead you decide to sit on my lap, that is very annoying, but I don't dislike it," he said, blushing. "And besides…I want to know more about you, I used to think when I first met you that you were just some pasta loving Italian who didn't like to fight…and now you're this pasta loving Italian who is actually stronger than me, is super rich, loves architecture, is very sick, and is one of the bravest people I know." Italy didn't know what to say. All he could manage to do was just gaze at Germany, lovingly. Germany did the same. For just one moment, they were alone, just the two of them. Italy wasn't sick and Germany wasn't tiered. They were fine, and they were together; but that moment changed as soon as the door swung open and two of the most unexpected people popped in.

"Ni hao," said China, holding a hand up.

"Здравствуйте! (formal hello in Russian" said Russia, following China's example. From the sight of the two men, Italy quickly pulled his blanket over his wound and curled into the corner of his bed.

"What do you two want! Get out of here, before I call security on you guys, or worse!" demanded Germany, standing up and marching over to them.

"Calm down, Germany." Said the doctor, who was behind China and Russia. "These two aren't here to hurt Italy." Explained the doctor in a calming voice.

"What? But this man broke Italy's arm and practically tried to kill him!" Germany shouted angrily. "He's just as crazy as America if you ask me and I don't want them anywhere near Italy!" Germany shouted defensively, now standing next to Italy, an arm wrapped around his injured friend's shoulder. Italy was shaking at the sight of these two. He might be strong, but he knew what Russia and China were capable of, and he was already in pain. Just the thought of them made Italy nervous.

"Aiyah! I swear, I'm only here to apologize to Italy." Said China, raising his hands in surrender. Again, Russia followed his friend's example.

"What do you mean? Why would you apologize? As far as we know, you're proud of what you did!"

"And I was…at first. I thought what I was doing was right for Russia…and I believed that America was right…but I didn't realize till now how wrong I was…" Russia actually got on his knees at the door. China looked at him in shock, along with Germany and Italy.

"Please forgive me, Italy." He begged. Everyone was speechless.

"Ve…Russia. It's…It's alright."

"What! Italy, he broke your arm! He punched your brother, and you're going to just forgive him!"

"Si. Forgive and forget Germany. Russia and China wouldn't take the time to come see us just to fake an apology. I think their being honest." Germany mumbled under his breath, but he trusted Italy…and his messed up thought process; so he agreed.

"But, I am confused about one thing," Italy said, looking at China and Russia.

"What?"

"Well…what made you change your minds about America and his…'tactics'? You seemed so for everything he was doing…" This time, China spoke.

"I don't really know, aru. I believed America was onto something for once. 'Save the planet from gayness' as he would say…but that didn't make any sense, no matter how hard I told myself it did. Then when I tried to fight you, and you won…I realized that this isn't a fight I want to be on the wrong side of. Despite what you all might think, Ivan and I do have our own moral compasses…and we decided that it _was _very wrong what America was doing. I know it sounds like I'm making it up, aru; but I swear I'm not." He said, looking at Italy and Germany.

"Ve. Alright then; but you know what would make me forgive you even more?" asked Italy happily.

"What? We'll do anything!" said Russia.

"If you would get me some get-well-soon-pasta!" cheered Italy happily.

"What did I say Italy? No food." Scolded the doctor. Italy replied with a frown and a depressed sounding 've', but gave in and agreed.

"Alright, now Italy needs his rest, he shouldn't even be sitting up yet." The doctor said walking over to Italy and checking his I.V.'s, temperature, ears, nose, eyes, and throat, and over all just doing an extremely thorough exam to make sure Italy wasn't bleeding out anywhere or had any other issues. The doctor said he would be doing this every hour.

"Well, you two better go see England and Japan, wake them up and explain everything, and don't forget to mention that Italy is alright." Russia and China agreed, waved to Italy and Germany, then left the room and followed a nurse to England and Japan.

"Ve, doctor, I don't want to sleep, I want to stay and chat with Germany!" Italy gave the doctor his best puppy dog look, and finally the doctor gave in.

"Alright, but as soon as you're tiered, you nap. Germany will stay with you I'm sure, so he'll be there right when you wake up," assured the doctor. Germany nodded in agreement, and the doctor left the two nations alone. When the doctor and nurses were out of sight, Italy looked at Germany and began talking.

"Ve…Germany?" Italy said, tentatively.

"Ja? What is it? Are you not feeling well?" Replied Germany in a worrisome manner.

"No…I feel fine, well as fine as I can feel. It's just that, did you notice that Russia and China called each other by their human names? Not their country names?" Italy stated. "Why do you suppose that is?"

"Well, China and Russia have known each other for a very long time, since they were just children. I think Japan even said that China knew Russia when he was still under the Tartar Empire's rule. So I can assume that they have been friends for most of their lives, despite the wars and political troubles between them." Germany explained. "I might be wrong though."

"Ve…I thought it would be something like fratello and Spain." Sighed Italy sadly.

"What do you mean?" asked Germany.

"Fratello and Spain call each other Lovino and Antonio. They've known each other since before the 16th century though, so I guess that's why," Said Italy, disappointedly.

"Umm…Italy, in case you haven't noticed, your brother and Spain are in a relationship." Germany laughed. Italy's face lit up and then he blushed.

"Ve! Of course…I knew that…Yeah…I did." Italy said awkwardly, trying to hide the fact that he honestly _didn't_ know they had an official relationship yet. Germany again, laughed. The face Italy was making was too adorable for Germany to handle. Then, an idea came to mind. Italy had been making all the moves in their relationship. He kissed Germany. He asked Germany on a date. And not more than two hours ago, had he asked Germany to be his boyfriend. It was Germany's turn to act!

"Hey…umm. Italien?" said Germany who turned to face the Italian.

"Si?"

"Well, since, you know, we're umm…you know…the whole…relationship thing…" Germany just couldn't find the words to use…as always. Italy smiled kindly at his German friend.

"You mean since we're going out?" he suggested.

"Ja! That…well, maybe..We could, umm. Call each other by …" but Germany's voice became so quiet at the end of the sentence Italy couldn't hear.

"Ve? Germany, could you say that again? I didn't catch that." Italy said. Germany complied, and did the same thing.

"Come on Germany, I can't hear you. Speak louder please." Asked Italy, who was starting to chuckle at how nervous Germany was.

"!" Germany managed to say in one fast breath.

"Say that one more time…but slowly." Italy said, smiling at Germany.

"Alright, now you're just messing with me aren't you?"

"Si! But it's fun." Germany blushed and mumbled something in Germany awkwardly under his breath.

"Ve, Germany come here." Said Italy, his voice clear and almost seductive. Just the way Italy called him, made Germany's face heat up. The German walked over to his bed ridden boy friend and waited for him to talk. But instead, Italy grabbed (well lifted his cast clad arms up and rested them on the sides of) Germany's head mask from the hazmat suit, and pulled it off.

"Italien! Don't! If that's not on you could get sick."

"I won't get sick…it's mainly just for show, so people don't come in." Germany still didn't approve, but gave in anyways. Germany looked down at the man in the bed and saw his lips moving.

"What? I can't hear you, speak up," Germany said, slightly making fun of Italy and how he made Germany repeat what he said several times. Italy didn't speak up, but still moved his lips as if trying to say something. Germany bent down closer to hear what the Italian had to say, but instead, Italy nudged Germany's cheek with his nose and whispered, "Ich libe dich, Ludwig." Then he kissed him. Nothing dramatic like the first time. Nothing but a small, sweet kiss on the lips; and as soon as it started it was over. The only thing Germany seemed to be able to do was smile like a total dork.

"Hehe…" he chuckled. Italy smiled at him.

"Ti..ti amo Feliciano." Germany said back. He meant it. He meant it more than anything else he had ever said or done; and Feliciano knew it.

"Ve…Ludwig…I'm sleepy. Sleep with me!" ordered Italy, trying to sound authoritative, but it just came across as adorable to Germany.

"I can't. For one your bed is too small, and for two, we're in a hospital, a public place, and I don't think that's very appropriate," explained Germany.

"But Ludwig…" whined Italy. "You're my husband, it's not frowned upon since we _are_ married." Joked Italy with a laugh. Again, Germany gave in. He might be able to resist torture from his enemies, he might be able to resist punching his brother in the face every day for saying the word 'awesome' more times than one could count, and he might be able to resist interrogating Russia and China…but the one thing he could not resist was Italy.

"Fine…but not in your bed. It's too small. I am much too large and will end up crushing you in that small cot." He said. Germany instead, lowered the bar on Italy's bed and brought his cot to Italy's. Germany sat on his bed and swung his legs on top so he could lay down parallel to his boyfriend.

"Ve…Ludwig?"

"Ja?"

"Will you sing me a lullaby, fevore?" asked Italy, innocently, and giving the puppy dog look again.

"What? No…you're much too old for that. Just go to sleep now, Feliciano." Germany said, blushing like a lunatic.

"But Ludwig…I'm *cough cough* so sick, *cough cough*. It would make me feel so much…*cough cough* better." Said Italy, fake coughing all the way, though the gullible Germany didn't realize it as fake and thought his love was really truly in more pain again.

"Ja! Alright, just don't die. Alright?" Italy smiled in reply and Germany thought of a lullaby. Prussia used to sing them to him all the time when he was younger, so why couldn't he think of any?

"Umm…ready?" he asked Italy, awkwardly. Happily, the auburn haired man in the bed next to the German.

"fine… Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein,  
es ruhn nun die Waldvögelein.  
Garten und Wiese verstummt,  
auch nicht ein Bienchen mehr summt.  
Luna mit silbernem Schein,  
gucket zum Fenster herein.  
Schlafe beim silbernen Schein -  
Schlafe mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein.  
Schlaf ein, schlaf ein. (sleep my little prince, sleep)"

"Happy now?" asked Germany, when he was done singing, but there was no reply, Italy had peacefully fallen to sleep, his hand resting on Germany's and a smile on his face. Germany couldn't help but do the same. Not five minutes later, Germany had drifted off as well.

XxXxXxX

"Welcome back Mr. Jones, here for your refill already?" asked a woman in a white lab coat behind the pharmaceutical counter.

"Yeah…hi Becky. They didn't seem to do much good this time, I think I need a higher dosage." Said America.

"That's too bad, I really thought that the medicine was working this time." Sighed Becky, sadly, and giving America a look of pity.

"So did I…but I guess it just isn't working anymore. Do you have anything else you can give me?" his face was imploring. He had bags under his blood shot eyes, and his face was getting paler each time she saw him.

"You know I can't do that Al. You need a prescription from your doctor."

"Yeah…I know. Doctor Thomson-Greggs wouldn't happen to be here today would he?" asked America.

"Actually he is, but I thought he wasn't your doctor anymore. Right?" Becky asked, slightly confused at why 'Mr. Jones' would want to see his ex-doctor.

"He's not, but Doctor Schullman is on vacation with his wife in Seychelles, so he can't do me much good, and I'd hate to interrupt his family time."

"Ah…understood. I'll page him." She said, pulling out her beeper and started punching in numbers.

"Oh, no need. Just tell me where he is and I'll go to him." He said.

"Alright, well he should be on the fourth floor, intensive care ward, I think he might be doing some surgery on a high priority patient, so ask the desk up there." Explained Becky, pointing down the hallway to go down.

"You already know how to get there." She winked at him and he went on his way.

"Thanks Beck's; you're a doll." America said, as he strode down the hallways and to the elevator to take him to the fourth floor.

In the elevator there was no music, so America hummed to himself all the way up, not paying any mind to the people coming in and out of the machine. Finally, he stepped out and walked down the luminescent hall way to the front desk where the nurses were working.

"Hello, ladies." He said suavely.

"Hey, Al. What can we do ya' for?" asked one of the nurses.

"I'm looking for my old doc, Thomson-Greggs…is he in surgery right now?" The nurse fiddled with her computer and then answered.

"Nope. He's done, but he's got some work to do. He'll be out soon though if you don't mind waiting and keeping us company, sugar?" asked the middle aged nurse, batting her overly mascara covered eye lashes at America.

"How can I say 'no' to you Lavern? You know how I love you guys' hospital drama and gossip. Lay it on me!" said America enthusiastically. He pulled up a chair and nurses all began talking.

"Well, for one thing there was this young little girl, so sad, she came in because she broke her arm falling down the stairs…turns out that she fell because of a tumor induced seizure," said Lavern dramatically.

"Oh no…is she all right?" asked America intently.

"That's the brilliant part! She's perfect! She made the fastest recovery any of us have ever seen! Of course she'll have to stay a little while longer, about a week…but she's a trooper that one." The gossip and drama continued on for another thirty minutes, making America slightly anxious, but he kept his cool and enjoyed the company of the nurses.

"Oh! And Rachel, yeah! Rachel, tell Al what happened with that young man in the quarantine that you were scrubbing in on!" shouted Lavern down to a younger nurse named Rachel, who was at the other end of the desk. She rolled over to Lavern and Alfred on her chair, and excitedly began telling her story.

"It's so sweet! You see, there was this young Italian man, and he came in with some horribly broken arms. He was put into pre-op but his friends with him wanted to stay! So they all faked being family members! You've got this Japanese guy pretending to be the Italian's step brother, a hot Englishman pretending to be the German's cousin, and the German pretending to be the Italian's husband!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight. America was as daft as always, and it didn't help that he was half asleep, he was oblivious to the people that Rachel was referring to.

"But here's where it goes sour. While in surgery, Doctor Ronnie, well she had to come tell those 'family members' about the poor man's problem. Turns out, he can't stop bleeding out! Finally after surgery, he's put in the quarantine room, and his fake husband goes to see him, I was there taking care of the Italian the whole time, and he's very nice and sweet. Any who, the German is so worried about his friend, it's so touching. But then the Italian looks at the German, and slowly and quietly, because he's so tiered from all the surgery, asks the German to be his boy friend! It was the sweetest thing ever!" squealed Rachel. Un-enthused, America nodded.

"Yea, sounds awesome," he said sarcastically. The nurses didn't pay any mind to it though and continued with their gossip.

Not two minutes later, Doctor Thomson-Greggs walked down the hall towards Alfred and the nurses.

"Hey doc," said America quietly.

"Amer..Alfred! What are you doing here?" asked the doctor nervously.

"I need some prescriptions…my doctor is on vacation…so I was wondering if you wouldn't mind filling some in and stuff…" he mumbled.

"You shouldn't be here, America."

"And why the hell not, doc?"

"Because…I'm not your doctor anymore…"

"That doesn't explain why I shouldn't be here," argued America back. The doctor had two options, risk his patient's safety by saying that he shouldn't be here due to Italy, Germany, England, Japan, and Russia were all here…or he could suck it up and take him in for a quick exam and prescribe him some meds. He went with option two.

"Okay, fine. Let's make this quick." The doctor ushered America down the hall and into an empty patient room.

"So what's wrong America?" asked the doctor, flipping his notebook out and to a fresh page.

"Well, the meds just don't seem to work anymore. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I get angry for no reason, nothing is working." The doctor scribbled things down on his note pad and came to his conclusion.

"Alright, take five things of 75 mg of Zoloft every night, this is a very high dosage, but you can handle it because you're a nation…so it'll work like 3 doses would on a normal human. Take some melatonin; you can get that at the desk as well." America looked at the doctor in disbelief.

"That's all? Dude, Zoloft hasn't been doing anything for me! It's been doing shit! I came all this way just for you to give me something that doesn't work!" shouted America, standing up and raising his fist.

"America, calm down, I won't be able to give you anything else, I don't know what you and your new doctor has been working on," said the doctor calmly, he was used to America's outbreaks.

"Like hell that should matter! Just give me a prescription for something that actually works for once! Help me! It's your damn job!" America was now right in the doctor's face, teeth bared and looking like a snarling animal.

"It _was_ my job America. Then you fired me. Now get out of my face." The doctor stood up, handed America the prescriptions and left the infuriated America to himself.

Finally, after America had calmed down, he left the room and asked the nurses where the doctor had gone so he could apologize for over reacting. Lavern told him that he went "that'a way", pointing down the hall and towards the quarantine room.

America, breathing slowly in and out, followed Lavern's finger down the hall and into the quarantine ward. He stepped into one of the hazmat suits and looked into each window of each door to see where the doctor was. Finally, in the second to last room, America found the doctor socializing with some patients. He opened the door to talk to the doctor, but what he saw wasn't what he expected. The patients.

"America get out of here!" shouted Doctor Thomson-Greggs angrily, pointing his finger at the exit.

"Not until you tell me why you're treating _them!_ You traitor!" he shouted angrily back, pointing _his _finger at Germany and Italy.

* * *

oh my goodness, I've been working on this since 9 in the morning. *i so need a life*

please review and tell me what ya' thought n' stuff! XD

Thank you for reading this super long chapter! :3


	12. Memories

hey! Sorry there hasn't been an update in a couple days...I've been drawing a blank on it! So I finally had a tad bit of inspiration so I wrote this!

Sure...it is kinda a filler chapter...and a bit of a fluff chapter...but you'll have to bear with it.

I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

Playa de los Peligros

Santander, Spain.

June, 2, 2012 (two day's after Italy's hospitalization)

"Come on Romano," whined Spain, lying naked underneath a (very) white and (very) see through.

"Shut up you naked (though incredibly sexy and tempting) bastard!" Romano ordered in his 'crude voice' that he used when he wanted to come across as 'tough' or 'manly'…which never seemed to work out when he used it on the Spaniard.

"But Romaaanooo! Come on…this is vacation, stop worrying…Don't make me come and get you…" Spain said in a sultry voice. Romano looked behind him, blushing like a total idiot.

_So…fucking tempting!_ His brain was shouting at him. He then proceeded to slap himself across the face (causing Spain to look at his lover with a very worried look).

" 'Sides bastard…you don't even know what I'm worried about…s-so shut your trap!" the younger of the two stammered, turning away from the (exceedingly gorgeous bastard) man lying on the bed. Then in a sing-song voice, the tan (naked, gorgeous, totally hot, dreamy…or so Romano describes the man to himself) Spaniard replied.

"But you see, my wonderful Lovi, I don't know, because you haven't told me; no matter how much I beg," and to which Romano replied:

"You want me to tell you?"

"Si. Please, Lovi?"

"You really want me to tell you?"

"I said 'Si' didn't I, silly?"

"If you really want to know, then you've got to do something for me."

"And what would that be?"

"GO PUT ON SOME DAMN PANTS!" so, Spain sat up, the sheet slipping off of him as he stood out of the bed. Romano had turned back around, he didn't see the next thing coming. Spain walked towards him quietly and hugged him from behind.

"Te amo, Lovi," He whispered seductively in Romano's ear, and gently kissed the nape of his neck. Romano blushed and swore like "a very masculine Italian would" (or so Romano would say).

"CHIGI! You bastard! Get _that_," Romano pointed down at Spain's 'nether regions', never moving his eyes from Spain's eyes. "away from, _that_!" he shouted, pointing at his trouser clad bum. Spain let out one of his brilliant laughs and walked away, after giving his 'little Lovi' a quick peck on the cheek, and then went to the closet to get a pair of pants on. While slipping each of his 'freakishly well built' legs down each pant leg, he started speaking.

"So, please tell boss what the worry is all for?" with a long sigh and a pout, Romano answered.

"…Feliciano hasn't called in three days." He mumbled. Spain first gave him a dumbfounded look, and then it quickly changed to his loving smile.

"You're worried about Ita!"

"…bastard, of course I am!" Romano spat back. Then, not to have Spain think he's a softy who actually _cares_ for his younger sibling, he hurriedly added: "because our boss is going to kill him if he doesn't contact one of us soon." _There, not soft at all…_

"Oh, Lovi…you're such a sweet big brother. Boss is so proud," again, he walked up to Romano and hugged him from behind.

"..Quit it you perverted tomato sucker!"

"You know you love it…now, tell me why you're so worried about your brother."

"I just did you bastard…" Romano mumbled again.

"I know you're not worried about your boss…you're _never_ worried about your boss…" this is something that Romano had to agree with. He and his brother never worried about their bosses, they had better things to worry about…like what's for dinner, and if their new suits were cleaned well enough by the dry cleaners.

"Fine…it's just that…Feliciano always calls me, once a day, and by always, I mean _always_. So long as he has two seconds to spare by the end of the day, he'll call. Shit, he'll even be on the toilet or in the tub or some other crazy ass thing my brother does, and he'll call. Hell, it's the most annoying thing in the world aside from you, but I've gotten so used to it…so when he doesn't call, it worries me…that's all you bastard." Huffed Romano, still trying to act like he didn't care for his brother or Spain in the slightest (though not trying to get out of Spain's 'awkward' hold on him.)

"But my lovely Lovi…why don't you just call your brother?" suggested Spain with a smile.

It was obvious yes, why hadn't he tried calling his brother yet? Simple, _I don't want my brother to think I even care about him._

"I won't because I won't. So there. Now shut up you bastard."

"Come on, Lovi…if you don't call him, then I will. Then your mind will be at ease…then maybe you can put me at ease?" said Spain, innuendo-ing it up, causing Romano to cuss like a sailor and blush like a little girl. Not a combination that Romano was going for (but usually ended up with when Spain talked to him that way).

"Do what you want..." he spat, and then tried prying Spain's arms away (it didn't work) then huffed and pouted.

"…if you _are _going to call him…call his cell phone, because he's with the potato bastard….and don't mention me. At all…or I'll kill you," threatened Romano in a not-so-threatening tone.

"Alright, alright. I'll give him a call." So Spain let go of his lover's waist, and picked up his phone and called the youngest of the Italian brothers.

It rang once…Romano glanced at Spain out of the corner of his eyes.

It rang twice…Romano began tapping his foot impatiently.

It rang thrice…Romano began pacing the room.

It rang for a fourth time… "JUST PICK UP THE DAMN PHONE FELICIANO!" he shouted to his brother, who just so happened to be thousands of miles away.

"Lovi, it's only rang a few times, just be patient, he's probably doing what _we're _not doing."

"And what would that be you bastard?"

"Making love with his lover!" he sang, causing Romano to, again, blushing like that little girl, but it was so embarrassing that it was more like…a little girl, in a pink dress, holding pink flowers, and holding hands with all her other little friends, and skipping through fields of pink fluffy girlly-ness, and then landing in a pile of girly sparkles. Yep…that's how embarrassed Spain tended to make his 'lovely little Lovi".

"Damnit you horny bastard! Don't give me the mental image! My little brother is innocent I tell you…Innocent! He wouldn't dare give it up till he got married, that chaste little bastard…" shouted Romano.

"Why didn't you decide to wait, then?"

"T-that's my own damn business you perverted-pedo-tomato…ummm….baby smeller!" _baby smeller? What the hell is a fucking baby smeller!_ Romano gave himself a mental face palm, and turned away from the other man in the room.

"…."

"What's with the silence?"

"It's ringed over thirty times now…."

"Put it on speaker…" Spain did so. With a click of a button, Feliciano's voice was talking to them.

"Ve! This is Feliciano Vargas's phone! I'mma not here…I'm probably making pasta or hanging out with Ludwig! Or maybe I'm painting…or I might be sleeping...or maybe I've been abducted by some strangers! Oh no! What if I have and then I'll be all alone, what if their aliens and they try to shove a probe up my….if you would like to leave a message press 1. If you would like to," Romano took the phone and turned it off.

"That idiot needs to answer his damn phone…" hissed Romano.

"…he needs to change his message machine." Laughed Spain. "So…now that I've tried calling Feli, and he's not answering…maybe we could…"

"Hand me my phone." Spain did so.

"What are you doing, Lovi?" inquired Spain.

"Finding where my brother is, damnit. I won't be calm until I know he's okay, that fucking idiot could be dead in a ditch for all I know!"

"And how will you find him, I've already tried calling him."

"Don't be an idiot, you bastard. It's called G.P.S."

"Umm…I'm not quite following, Lovi."

"I have a tracker on him."

"Still not following, love."

"He kept getting lost a lot, so I got tired of it, and put a tracker in his shoulder while he was sleeping a few years back…"

"Haha…isn't that a tad…extreme?"

"Hardly, it makes it so that boss and our boys can always find him when they need him, and it keeps me from stressing…" Romano touched his phone and brought up a map. It started zooming in, and zooming in and finally ended in America…in the nation's capital, and apparently in a hospital.

"What the fuck has he done to land himself in a hospital!"

"Now, Lovi…calm down, it might not even be him that's injured…it could be Germany…or maybe he's just visiting or volunteering…you know how he loves to do that."

"No…I don't care…he's in a hospital…I need to be there…" he paused for a moment and thought.

"Spain…vacation over. I need to get to my brother, now." He walked over to the closet and started pulling out all of his clothing and loading it into his suitcases.

"But…Lovi…can we make love first…come oooon…pleeeaaaaaaasssseee! Spain begged.

"No you bastard…trust me…I want to you idiot…but I just can't shake this feeling…my brother is in danger…has been for a while…so we're going to get him and bring him home where he's safe." Spain smiled and started packing as well.

"You're such a good brother, Lovi."

"And what do you think you're doing…?" asked Romano, referring to Spain's packing.

"I'm coming with you. Duh. You can't go anywhere without getting into trouble…so I'm coming too." Romano looked away and smiled to himself.

"Fine you bastard. Do what you want." He said as if he didn't care.

"Only on one condition."

"And what would that be you bastard."

"You have to tell me why you decided not to wait like your brother did…I remember when you were a kid, you told me you were going to wait…wait for the right person, wait for your bride. I know you're just as religious as Feliciano is, just in your own way…so why did you let me …" but Romano cut him off by kissing him.

"Because you're not my fucking bride, you bastard. You're my boyfriend. And I'm pretty sure that God doesn't give a shit if we commit sodomy…he would have done something if he was mad…and besides…I..I lo-lo…..I lov….gah! Ti amo you bastardo!" Spain smiled his radiant smile like he always did when Romano did such 'romantic' things.

"Te amo, mi amore," Spain said, kissing him back.

"You better."

XxXxXxXxXxX

*after a very long plane ride to Washington D.C. (the Capital of that homophobic-unfashionable-bastard America.).

"So…which hospital is Feliciano in?" Spain asked Romano, who was looking at his phone.

"It says that he's in Sacred Heart hospital…over that way," he said, pointing straight ahead.

"Oh…it's right there..heh." scoffed Romano and Spain at the same time, looking straight at the hospital.

"Well…what time is it? It might not be open…" asked Spain.

"It's … 8:50 PM…and hospitals are open 24/7…people get hurt at night as well you idiot." Spain laughed and nodded his head.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Spain grabbed his lovers hand and the two started walking down the sidewalk to get to the hospital. They walked through the two sets of electric doors and walked straight up to the woman at the desk.

"Hola, senora. Could we visit someone?" asked Spain, shining his brilliant (but not the same as the one he gives Romano…_that one is mine, damnit) _smile to the woman sitting behind the desk.

"Sure hun, I'd like to see some I.D. first." She said, holding out her hand. Nodding, the Romano reached into his purse...sorry _man-satchel (It's Prada, damnit!)_ and pulled out their passports, freshly stamped with the American seal.

"Some more foreigners, huh? Tell me who you wanna see."

"My brother, Feliciano Vargas," said Romano. The nurse went wide eyed.

"What's your name hun?" Romano rolled his eyes.

"It's on the passport if you look at it, damnit," he pointed at his passport.

"Oh…right…Lovino. I'm going to have to ask you two some questions before you see Mr. Vargas…and then you need to be inspected by security," she explained, a slight frightened tone to her voice.

"Why the fuck should I do that!"

"Lovi, calm down…America is a different…maybe they do this all the time..."

"Nope…we don't Mr…uuhh..Antonio Corriedo." She said, saying his name very slowly, trying her best to pronounce it best. "Only for Mr. Vargas."

"What's wrong with my brother? Did he try to kill someone or something?" laughed Romano, jokingly.

"Quite the opposite…a frequent patient came in and attempted to kill him and his boyfriend supposedly." Romano stood at her in shock and in horror.

"SOMEONE MURDERED MY FRATELLO!" shouted Romano, eyes wide and starting to panic, Spain tried to calm him down, but it wasn't easy.

"Someone _tried_, Lovi…_tried_…He's fine though…right?" asked Spain to the secretary.

"His in a sorry condition…same with Mr. Beilschmidt…but they've got their friends with them and doctors and security watching on a constant." She said, soothing their worries slightly.

"Now I'm going to need to ask you some questions. How do you two know Mr. Feliciano Vargas?"

"I'm his brother."

"I'm his brother's boyfriend and a very good friend."

"Alright…next…do you two know a man named Alfred F. Jones?"

"Hell yeah we do…pitty too…I wish I didn't know that annoying homophobe…what type of question is this anyways?"

"How do you know him, sir?"

"He fucking works with us," she started putting little checks by some boxes and continued answering questions. She asked for their ages, their addresses, their phone numbers, their work numbers…almost all of their personal information; and all of it was causing Romano to get very testy.

"Listen lady, I want to see my brother now," he sighed, trying to be nice…but failing miserably.

"You still need to be checked by the security," she said, and at that, two guards walked up and began doing an airport-like security search on the two men, patting up and down their legs, looking in their jackets.

"Sir…why do you have a weapon with you?" asked the guard searching Romano.

"Oh, that is simply for self defense, take it if you want," Romano laughed at the little flip knife that the guard took from his coat pocket.

"Sir…why do you have this weapon with you?" asked the guard again, pulling out a bigger knife.

"Self defense, take that one too." This happened six more times.

"Lovi, how many knives did you bring with you?" asked Spain, chuckling slightly.

"Hey, you know me… I don't go anywhere without at least three weapons with me…it's a fucking habit I hope you know," and again, Spain laughed.

"Yeah…I guess you're right….so sirs, ma'am, can we go see dear little Felici now?" Spain asked the guards and the nurse. They nodded and the guards took Spain and Romano to see the two injured people.

XxXxXxXxX

"Ve! Fratello! What are you and Big-Brother Spain doing here?" asked Italy happily from his bed.

"I'm here to see you, you injured piece of idiocy!" shouted Romano.

"Ve, I love you too, fratello." Italy looked over to his right, to the bed connected to his. He reached out his hand and grabbed the hand of the man lying there.

"See, Luddy! Antonio and Fratello came to see us!" he cheered, squeezing the blond man's hand. The German stirred and opened his eyes from sleeping. He mumbled something, probably in German, that Italy replied to also in fluent German. _Since when did that Idiot speak German?_ Thought Romano. Italy laughed and so did the German, but more quietly. The two held a small conversation for a while and then Germany went back to sleep.

"Alright, you're going to explain to me what happened, right now," demanded Romano, walking towards his brother. He lowered one of the bars of Feliciano's bed and plopped himself onto it, taking care not to be too rough. He and his brother were small enough to lie in a small twin bed, so the small cot was fine. The two brothers stared at each other straight in the eye for a moment, then the northern personification of the shared country began talking.

"I got into a fight…we got into a fight. Long thing short…it landed me in the hospital. Then America came to the hospital to get some more medication for something or other…and he came into my room to talk to the doctor…and he saw me and Germany…called the doctor a traitor and the two argued for a while. Argued about who the real traitor was and all that stuff…vee…then he pulled out his gun and pointed it at me…Germany jumped in front and got shot in the chest, went straight through, thank god…and hit me in the heart area…then America shot again…and again…and again…" by now Italy was starting to tear up, and squeeze Germany's hand tighter.

"Germany got shot in the head…in the frontal and temporal lobes, the part that controls speech and language and stuff… and once to the cerebrum, that's the part that controls memory…He healed up fine after the surgery. Doctor said that because he was a nation…oh yea, our doctor knows about nations…he's America's old doctor before he was fired by America for having two gay dads…anyways…where was I?" asked the distracted Italian.

"You were at the part where you said that the German bastard was healing from his brain surgery," said Romano, dying to know more and understand what happened so he could be there for his brother.

"Oh..si. So…the doctor said that his brain just healed…as if it was magic…Arthur does magic you know, he made some get-well flowers for me out of thin air, they were daisies! …where was I? Oh yea, okay…so as soon as the bullets came out, it was like his brain just re-grew…but some of his memories are gone…and due to that…and his speech and language area being hit too…he only remembers how to speak German..This is fine with me because I already speak German fluently,"

"Since when?" interrupted Romano.

"…hmmm…many years ago…a few years before I learned Italian."

"You had to be taught Italian?" asked Romano, who was very confused at the moment.

"Si! Don't forget, while you stayed in South Italy, I was raised by Grandpa…and I only spoke Latin then…then I learned German while staying with Austria and Hungary and Holy Rome…he spoke Italian sometimes…but I didn't understand him much…except for the similarities between Italian and Latin…which is a lot. Then we became independent, and from that, I learned Italian…when we finally became 'Italy'."

"That's crazy…you always spoke Italian fine when we were kids and before we were independent…?" by now, Romano was even more confused.

"Silly brother...I didn't. I only spoke very broken Italian, because I hadn't been around my own people…ever. I stayed in the church and only spoke Latin…you knew Latin too, from when you were younger, so I guess you just remember understanding me and thinking I was speaking Italian…or something," explained Italy to his older brother.

"How come you are smarter than me? It makes no sense!" complained Romano.

"Oh, fratello! You're still smarter than me…like always. You speak Italian, Spanish, and English fluently…you understand French and Latin, and you can do math better than me, and pick up girls better than me too!" laughed Italy. "But not like that matters, seeing as the two of us like guys," Italy burst out laughing, causing Germany to wake up, and some ripping sound to come from Italy.

"Cozza! Not again!" shouted an uncharacteristic Italy. Romano was very confused (as usual) until he saw a red spot grow larger and larger from his younger brother's chest.

"Chigi!" yelped Romano. "Doctor! Doctor! Heeelp!" he began screaming, calling for aid. He put his hands to his brother's chest.

"Apply pressure…right? Or was it no pressure…or maybe it was …I don't remember…what do I do!" Romano soon passed out from hyperventilation just as the doctor walked through the doors.

"What did I tell you Feliciano…no laughing!" chuckled Doctor Thomson-Greggs.

"Si…I know…I laughed anyways…it was pretty funny though! I said that fratello can hit on girls better than I can…but we both like guys…so it doesn't make a difference! Hahah! Ooow!"

"No laughing."

The doctor began to sew Italy back up, as usual with no anesthesia. During the small patch up, Germany woke up again, his eyes wide and his voice screaming bloody murder.

"Nurse!" Thomson-Greggs shouted. Rachel came in with a shot of something, and stuck the needle into one of Germany's thick arms. He calmed down instantly and began speaking slowly in his native tongue.

" Welcher tag heute ist? (what day is today?)" asked Germany in a very confused voice.

"Es ist Samstag," Italy said calmly. To this, Germany laughed, and Italy laughed back as well. Then Germany repeated himself.

"Welcher tag heute ist?"

"Es ist Samstag," Spain was very confused, along with Romano who woke up a minute ago. Italy and Germany laughed at the same thing again. Then Germany proceeded to fall back to sleep.

"What did he just say?" asked Romano.

"He asked what day it was," Italy stated plainly…yet in a slightly sad tone that only his brother could hear.

"Why did he ask it twice…and laugh each time? What's so funny about the day? I don't get it!" by now Romano was rambling and shouting. It was just a habit he adopted as a child when people were confusing him.

"I told you…his memory is off…the doctor here thinks he'll be better soon…a day…week…maybe a month or a year…but it will come back, no doubt about that. He remembers everything from his past along with things that have happened lately…he just can't seem to retain any current information, and it becomes too much for him and he falls asleep….he'll get better soon," whispered Italy.

"Feliciano…don't get your hopes up…it might not happen for many years even…" explained the doctor, trying to keep his patient from becoming too hopeful. Italy looked at him with poison in his amber eyes.

"He will. He will get better soon." The doctor sat quiet and finished sewing up Italy.

"Feliciano…I just don't want you to be disappointed if it doesn't happen today or tomorrow," the doctor said, trying his best to explain his actions.

"Doctor…you forget, in our time spans…a day is like a second, a year is like a week. I will wait one million years until he's better…for me one million years would be soon," the doctor looked at Italy with concern, but his gaze was just returned by an intense serious stare.

"I've waited for thousands of years for someone to return to me…he didn't come back…I will wait for eternity for this man, because he is here, he is with me and I'm never letting him go. My hopes are not up, but my faith is Doctor…and I have faith that Ludwig is doing his best to get better…even if he doesn't remember he's trying…Ludwig always tries. Don't underestimate him. Or me for that matter."

* * *

Alright, didja enjoy? Prolly not, I know, not so much drama as last time...super boring I bet. Hey, it gets better I promise!

So please review and stay tuned!


	13. Our RightsPart II

not a chapter, it's just a short prologue to introduce part 2 of Our Rights!

* * *

Our Right – Part II

-prologue

Sacred Heart Mental Ward

June 3, 2012

A straight jacket? You've got to be kidding me! I'm not crazy, so what's with this ridiculous get up! Seriously dudes! I tried to do everyone a favor, but do they see it as that? NO! Of course not, because everyone is blind but me! Do they not see the crimes that these homo's commit every day! Like sodomy and all that horribly wrong stuff…I bet they're all sex addicts…what do I mean ' I bet'…of course they are! There isn't any doubt in my mind that they aren't!

Anyways…it just isn't fair. Why are they punishing me? I don't understand it at all…I don't even really remember what I did, okay! I just remember seeing those two fags and then it's all a blur. I remember me trying to do something…but what was it again? Fuck…like I could remember. Whatever I did, they deserved it…right?

'_You deserve it, Alfred…now be a good little boy and…'_

Hell no! I'm not like them! People don't deserve that…

'_It's your own fault…'_

It's not my fault! It's theirs! They all need to die! DIE! I have to save everyone! I'm the hero! I _will_ save everyone!

'_Don't scream for help, you imbicil! No one is going to save you, you deserve this…._

_IT'S YOUR OWN FAULT.'_

NO! IT'S THERE FAULT! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING...I…didn't do anything…right?

It was all them…it was all them…

Right?

* * *

YAY! America's side of the story now! Enjoy!


	14. Friends

The room was dull. There had been so much chaos lately that they never noticed how incredibly dull and dreary the room really and truly was. So after the pandemonium finally 'settled down' (for lack of a better term) they had all realized how horrible this room was. Wasn't a hospital supposed to be a healing environment? Yes, the doctors did their jobs well, and so did the nurses and the volunteers…but the healing process was far from over…or so said Italy.

"How will Ludwig even be able to get better in a room with no color?" shrieked the red head loudly. He pointed one of his thin, tan fingers at the wall behind him to show every what he was talking about. Turning his head back to his friends, he looked at them with his wide amber eyes, eye brows raised high on his scrunched up brow, and his lips pressed tightly together, puckering out slightly. The expression on his face caused everyone in the drab room to hold their breath, and then burst out into laughter. England was bending over, holding tight to his stomach, and trying to catch his breath.

"Look, Italy," started England, finally gaining his bearings back. "The room is fine. Germany will be able to feel better just with your-" but a death glare cut him off. A death glare of epic proportions. A death glare made of golden-brown flaming nuclear daggers and bullets laced in arsenic. So England shut up.

"No!" shouted Italy, sitting straight up in his bed, his fists clenched and his knuckles turning white.

"Colors, and flowers, and animals, and other cute things make people feel better! This room…if you can even call a room without color 'a room', will _not_ help Luddy feel better!" Italy let out a loud 'aaaaaAAARGGGGAH!' noise, causing some of the passersby outside the room stop and look inside.

"Alright!" gasped Russia in surprise.

"So what do you think we should do then, aru?" asked China cautiously, making sure he didn't say anything to upset Italy more than England and the room itself already had.

"We make it look good…well no. I don't trust you guys with making something cute and looking good to Ludwig's standards," stated Italy. With a determined tone, he continued.

"So you all will do what I say," Russia smiled and gave a salute, and Japan gave a small chuckle.

"First off…I think that Japan and England are the most responsible, so I leave my credit card to you two. China, here is a piece of paper and a pen, write down the things we need…and Russia…you can hold the things after buying them," he said, pointing to each of them and stating their purpose.

"Romano and Big Brother Toni…you two are going to get the food,"

"What are you going to do, you idiot? You can't just leave everything to us, you bastard!" argued Romano, pointing a finger at his younger sibling.

"Si! That's not very fair Feli!" agreed Spain. England just shook his head.

"You wankers. Italy is _bed ridden_. He won't be able to leave this room," Italy scoffed at the word. "Let alone leave his bed!" Spain and Romano quickly made their little 'oooh' noises of realization, and looked down at their feet awkwardly.

"So, Italy, what will you be doing?" asked Russia.

"_I _will be designing the room when you all come back with my complete list. Now China, here's what you need to write down." China lifted his paper and pen up so he could write every word Italy says down.

"Paints. Blue's, red's, green's, yellow's," Italy practically listed every color ever seen by the human eye, half of which the other's didn't even know were colors.

"And some paint brushes of course, I left all of mine at home. Oh and make sure that the paint is _oil paints_. Don't mess that part up," after about an hour, the Italian had _finally_ finished talking about the paints and painting materials he would need, he continued.

"Flowers. Lots and lots and lots of flowers, because Ludwig _actually_ loves them, believe it or not. So pick up cornflowers, daisies, edelweiss," again, Italy took ages listing all the flowers he wanted to have picked up…half of which they didn't even know were sold in America. And so, Italy began listing things…_again_.

"Pick up a giant teddy bear…one that is really fluffy and squishy too. And go to the local animal shelter and see if you can have some volunteer dogs come or something, because Germany's favorite animals are dogs, he has three at home," Italy hazarded a glance over at his boyfriend in the bed next to him and a small smile crept across his face, brushing his fingers gently across the calm skin.

"Awkwaaaard," sang Spain quietly into Romano's ear, who then swore and elbowed him in the ribs, then Spain hugged him, and the cycle of their awkward romantic moment continued. Italy blushed and faced his friends again.

"Alright China, let me see the list to make sure you wrote _everything_ down," said Italy, holding out a hand. China walked forwards and handed him the list. Reaching out, the red head grabbed it and gave it a quizzical look.

"What is this?" asked Italy.

"Aiyah? That is the list, aru! What else?"

"This is just a bunch of random pictures…that's what it is! This is serious people!" Italy said, his voice rising in volume and in octaves.

"Shén me?(What?) Oh! Don't be an idiot, aru! That is Chinese writing, characters! I wrote down everything you said. Don't worry, aru!" China said frantically, knowing he had to do his best _not_ to get on the northern half of Italy's bad side.

"….Fine. Alright, I'll believe you. But if you get _anything _wrong, I will kill you. Maybe not kill you…but still. Don't screw up," threatened Italy.

"Shi, shi! Don't fret!" Italy glared, and then moved on.

"Now fratello, you and big brother Toni are going to have to get some German food….and pasta for me, I'm starving," Italy said, and the rumbling from his stomach agreed.

"So what food do you want him to have? We can't exactly cook in the hospital," explained Romano.

"Si…well get some potato products. Like mashed, baked, etc etc. He likes cakes too…so find some good cake…chocolate ones, because chocolate is his favorite. No beer…because that will just damage his brain," Romano grunted and Spain accepted this food finding challenge.

"Si, Feli. Is that all?" asked Spain.

"Si. We can't give him too much food or he'll get sick," at this, Romano scoffed and rolled his eyes, thinking something along the lines of '_the potato bastard should stay sick forever and ever….and then Spain and I will live happily in a Spanish villa-thing and eat pasta and paella every day and not worry about that stupid Germany raping my brother…' _Good thing Italy wasn't very good at reading his brother…let alone people in general.

Italy took a deep breath in, inhaling all the smells and tastes the hospital room had…and despite having been 'living' in that room for several days now, the room's aroma had not improved nor had any of them gotten used to it.

_But I digress._ Thought Italy. He exhaled slowly and spoke one last time.

"And bring some air-wik or something," Italy pinched his nose and made a face, "this place smells," Russia laughed at the face Italy made; his nose all scrunched up and his lips pouted out, not to mention the way his voice became nasally when he pinched his nose. Everyone soon joined in, including Italy. An unexpected voice joined their laughter…Germany's. Everyone turned to the man sleeping in the bed next to the Italian, and saw the blonde sleeping still, a broad smile spread across his face.

"…hund…" sighed Germany happily. Italy gave a weak chuckle.

"Ve…definitely don't forget the dogs…"

The gang left the room, ready to buy all these things…and happy that they had Italy's credit card.

"Oh…I forgot something!" exclaimed Russia. He turned around and walked back to the room, only a few feet away. He popped his head into the room and said,

"Before I forget Italy…become one?" Italy's reply was him throwing a book at the Russian's face. Russia stood there in shock for a moment…or it might have been anger…or maybe happiness; you can never tell with that man.

"I'll take that as a maybe," he laughed. Exiting the room, he walked back to the rest of the crew and they continued on their 'mission'.

XxXxXxXxX

"So tell me about these people, Mr. Jones."

"Seriously, dude. You know that I know that you know who I am. Just call me my name."

"Alright then, America. Tell me about these people you so _despise._"

"You want to know about them? Who? All of them? There are too many…I hate everyone…them, these doctors…YOU! I HATE YOU ALL!" Screamed America, standing up from his bed and lunging at the doctor sitting in front of him.

Dodging, he stepped to the side and called for a nurse. One came in with a large needle and rammed it into America's arm. Instantly, the nation calmed down and sat back on his bed.

"Now, Mr. America. Tell me about those 'friends' of yours."

America sat there not moving, but looking at the doctor dead in the eye. He couldn't place it…but there was something incredibly unsettling about this man. He…he wasn't right.

'_It's just you being crazy again, America…calm down,' _He said to himself. He took a deep breath and began talking.

"Well who do you want to know about? I hate fags, so I hate all those stupid nations that have legalized them to get married to each other…it's fucking disgusting! Netherlands and Spain and even my own brother!...and then there is England and Japan…and even Russia and China! I thought they were my friends…and that they saw things the way _I_ saw them…but they abandoned me too…and then there's Germany…and that fag of his Italy…."

"And tell me about them," the doctor said calmly, scribbling notes down in his note book.

"Them? What else is there to say, aside from their fags who fucking destroyed my meeting…wouldn't let me help them…instead they go crazy and cause chaos and just ruin everything!" by now, America was breathing heavily, his face totally red, and his eyes were filled with rage and insanity.

"No…tell me _about_ them…not what they have done. What are they like…aside from gay," explained the doctor. Instantly, America replied.

"Oh…well I guess that personality wise, their okay…aside from being gay…but before I knew they were gay I liked them fine I guess…Germany was always a good guy to look up to…well…after world war two that is…that guy was crazy then. But now, he's really organized and keeps his country healthy, he's fit, and even though he's rude and a jerk, he's patient when it comes to helping others…which is something that I admire in anyone…be them fags or not," said America.

"You sound like you are quite fond of this man. You used to be friends with him, so what caused you to _not _like him?"

"Aside from being a homo?" America thought. "Nothing…I mean…I know it sounds bad, but if you knew how bad homosexuals were then you would understand…none of them can be trusted…I have to save everyone from them! It's my job! I'M THE HERO!" America stopped after he realized he was getting louder and his breathing more rapid.

"Sorry…"

"It's alright, America. Now tell me about this 'Italy'," he flipped to the next page of his note book.

"Okay…Italy. Well, I actually really liked him…as a friend that is…no way in hell would I _like_ like him,"

"Well what did you like about him then?" America sat there and thought. And thought…and thought some more. It wasn't that it was difficult to think of an answer, but finding out how to word it was another story. Finally, America's thoughts became un-scrambled and he managed to form his answer.

"Italy was always fun, never a dull time with him. When there was no danger for a hero like me to save people from, he would always do something stupid that I was able to save him from…that is when Germany didn't get to do it first…and his love of pasta matched my love for burgers, so we were able to go on tangents about our favorite foods…and he was always really nice to me, even when everyone called me an idiot or stupid or young…he was usually the only one who would still talk to me and be nice to me….

"I remember, there was this one time when I got so…sad and discouraged during a meeting, everyone was bringing me down. England and everyone hated my idea…I guess it was stupid…but they didn't have to beat me down so much about it…and afterwards they all joined together to go to a bar…and I wasn't allowed to come for some reason…I ended up at the same bar as them though…by accident. Since I wasn't allowed to sit with them, I sat alone in the corner, drinking some Bud…but then Italy showed up all alone. He said 'hi' to his friends, and then walked straight over to me. He said 'sorry that happened to you…I know how it feels to be called stupid and useless…I get told that every day by everyone…It's not nice, is it?'…then I remembered that I was usually one of the people saying that to him…so I said sorry…and then, poof! We became pretty good friends. This was…I think around….20 years ago maybe?" America finished his story about Italy, his lips forming a small smile during his tale, along with a small blush.

"So…do you think it's safe to say that Italy was one of your only good friends at the time?"

"…yes. Yes I do. I always had Mattie…because he was my bro…but it was always so hard to talk to him...'cuz he kept disappearing. And England! Well, England has always been a … 'friend', but he's always been so judgmental of me since I was a kid! Everyone has been…America do this, do that…that's wrong, help us, no help us, join us, do this, of course that was going to happen, democracy won't work, serves you right….always…but when I became friends with Italy…even before we were really good friends, he was always nice to me…sure he told me when I did something stupid…but since he did just as stupid things as I did…he could say when I did something _too_ stupid…ya' know? He's always been someone that reminds me of myself slightly. I mean, not like twins or something…we're hardly alike. But we've been thru similar things with our friends and family that we instantly connected."

"So now that you aren't friends…what are you going to do?"

"…I want to help him…I don't want him to have this disease! I want him to be cured and be my friend again…I know he said that he's been this way for … a loooong time…but I know some where, deep deep down, he hates himself for feeling this way…he's a good catholic, he knows he shouldn't feel this way…so I will find him a cure…I'll find everyone a cure…because that is what a hero does…I know they're not bad people…but if they stay like this, they might just become bad people…and I don't want that to happen to them…to my friends…" by now, America had begun tearing up. He was doing his best to keep all the tears held back, but it was nearly impossible. He had never told these things to people…that he didn't hate them…that he still loved and cared for his friends. But he can't show that on the outside…he can't…because then he's vulnerable.

"…alright…Now…Mr. America. Please tell me what Mr. Italy looks like," asked the doctor.

"Umm…alright…why though?"

"Well you see, sometimes a person's appearance can seem more inviting than others and thus more friendly, etc etc etc…this could explain how you and him became such good friends…" said the doctor. America gave him a look of uncertainty. He had already said how he and Italy became friends…so what did it matter? But the drugs rushing through his body were causing him to not think too far into it.

"Hmm…okay then…well he's short…at least shorter than me. About 'yey high'," America said, holding his hand at the Italian's approximate height.

"He's got red hair…with brown and gold kinda mixed in…but you gotta look at it for a while to see it…but it's there. And he's got light, but tan skin…and these big amber-ish eyes that are so…lucid! He's really skinny, but not to where he's un-healthy. He's like me in that way… we could eat pasta or burgers all day long and never gain a pound! Well…I might gain a few…but then I diet…for him, it just goes straight through him! He's surprisingly strong though…he beat up more than half the middle east and Africa a while ago! Hmmm…what else. Well his eyes are usually closed, he said it's because his eyes freak people out sometimes, because they're so clear and they 'look right through people'…at least that's what they told him…

"And he usually wears really nice clothes, he is Italian after all. I think that at the last meeting, he was wearing a navy blue suit, white shirt, and a black tie. It looked like his old military uniform during the war…but it wasn't. Ummm….Nothing else really I can think of…" said America, huffing from thinking too hard.

"Are you sure…he sounds pretty…_interesting…_" said the doctor back, his voice slightly off putting for some reason…again, America couldn't pin-point why.

"Yeah…he sure is. You can meet him if you want, doc. He's just up stairs," explained America, tilting his head upwards where Italy was at roughly. At this, the doctor smiled, a creepy eerie smile, his eyes hidden behind his shaggy light brown hair, all you could see were his white teeth shining ominously. America shuddered just looking at him.

"I think I shall meet him then…It was nice talking to you, Mr. Jones…I'll see you again tomorrow," and with that, the doctor got up to leave.

"Just try not to catch his 'gayness' doc," shouted America. And then, the doctor left.

"Oh…no need to worry about that."


End file.
